Dow Kim’s collecting journey began in the 1990s with a “stroke of luck,” he said. A finance executive living in Tokyo, he got a call from a colleague with the news that a Japanese art institution was selling a number of paintings. Before he knew it, he had bought an original Marc Chagall.

His tastes have evolved since then, now incorporating Asian and Western contemporary art. Collecting has become an integral part of his life, as the semi-retired private investor hits international art fairs, pops up in auctions as both buyer and seller, and makes studio visits to develop that all-important rapport with artists.

He served as a trustee of the Asia Society from 2006 to 2009 and, in 2018, founded the Dow Kim Family Foundation to promote philanthropic activities around Korean leadership, education, and the arts in the U.S. The goal is to “empower the lives of underserved and under-resourced Korean Americans,” he explained. Currently, the foundation financially supports four nonprofit organizations and is a sponsor of the exhibition “Only the Young: Experimental Art in Korea, 1960s–70s” at the Solomon R. Guggenheim in New York. Running now through January 7, 2024, it’s the first North American museum exhibition dedicated to Korean experimental art known as silheom misul.

Kim’s collecting got a boost when he attended the inaugural edition of Frieze Seoul last year. “It’s great to see Korea emerging as a significant art center,” he said. “Many Koreans and Korean Americans are starting their own journeys in collecting.” That led to a repeat visit this year—and he did not leave empty-handed, as he describes below.

On an apparent collecting tear (11 purchases in the last year alone), Dow Kim spoke with Artnet News about some of his prized pieces, what acquisitions he hopes are in his future, and the Chagall that started it all.

Les fiancés à l’horloge (1965). Courtesy of Dow Kim.” width=”796″ height=”1024″ srcset=”https://www.mecreates.com/story/news/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/dow-kim-chagall-796×1024.jpg 796w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-chagall-233×300.jpg 233w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-chagall-1195×1536.jpg 1195w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-chagall-39×50.jpg 39w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-chagall.jpg 1400w” sizes=”(max-width: 796px) 100vw, 796px”>

Marc Chagall, Les fiancés à l’horloge (The bride and groom at the clock) (1965). Courtesy of Dow Kim.

What was your first purchase?

Like many occurrences in life, it was happenstance that led to the purchase of my first significant painting in 1997. At that time, I didn’t know much about the art market but was aware of big name artists, such as Monet, Picasso, Renoir, and Chagall. I was living in Tokyo back then when a colleague alerted me that a seller was looking to unload a number of paintings, including works by Picasso and Chagall. Through that opportunity, and with no previous experience in buying original art, I dove in and bought a classic 1965 Chagall oil painting, Les fiancés à l’horloge.

Lobster Tail Flowers (Shellfish) (2023). Courtesy of Dow Kim.” width=”855″ height=”1024″ srcset=”https://www.mecreates.com/story/news/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/dow-kim-yulia1-855×1024.jpg 855w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-yulia1-251×300.jpg 251w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-yulia1-42×50.jpg 42w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-yulia1.jpg 1233w” sizes=”(max-width: 855px) 100vw, 855px”>

Yulia Iosilzon, Lobster Tail Flowers (Shellfish) (2023). Courtesy of Dow Kim.

What was your most recent purchase?

My most recent purchases were at Frieze and Kiaf Seoul 2023. I acquired an oil painting by Paulo Nimer Pjota—a new artist for me—at Frieze, and a painting by Yulia Iosilzon at Kiaf. I first came across Yulia’s works last year at Carvalho Park gallery’s booth at Kiaf, and fell in love with her works so much so that I’ve acquired four more paintings since then. Beautifully undulating, calligraphic lines are a signature feature of Yulia’s dreamlike compositions.

Cenas de casa, mesa e banco (2023). Courtesy of Dow Kim.” width=”939″ height=”1024″ srcset=”https://www.mecreates.com/story/news/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/dow-kim-Paulo-Nimer-Pjota-939×1024.jpg 939w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-Paulo-Nimer-Pjota-275×300.jpg 275w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-Paulo-Nimer-Pjota-46×50.jpg 46w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-Paulo-Nimer-Pjota.jpg 1066w” sizes=”(max-width: 939px) 100vw, 939px”>

Paulo Nimer Pjota, Cenas de casa, mesa e banco (2023). Courtesy of Dow Kim.

Two Figures with Face Masks (2020). Courtesy of Dow Kim.” width=”933″ height=”1024″ srcset=”https://www.mecreates.com/story/news/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/dow-kim-george-condo1-933×1024.jpg 933w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-george-condo1-273×300.jpg 273w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-george-condo1-46×50.jpg 46w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-george-condo1.jpg 1150w” sizes=”(max-width: 933px) 100vw, 933px”>

George Condo, Two Figures with Face Masks (2020). Courtesy of Dow Kim.

Tell us about a favorite work in your collection.

That’s a difficult question for me to answer, as most of the paintings I have are favorites. My favorite painting may change week to week depending on my perception and mood. But I do have a sentimental favorite—a painting by George Condo, Two Figures with Face Masks (2020). I consider the painting, made during Covid, to be historic—the title of the painting says it all. During the middle of the pandemic, an art advisor contacted me to ask if I was interested in a Condo that was going to be shown at Kiaf 2020. I was excited when it was offered to me because I had been looking to acquire a Condo painting for some time. When I saw the photos of the painting, I fell in love with it instantly and bought it without seeing it in person. That was the beginning of acquiring Condo paintings. I’ve acquired two additional works in acrylic pantings since that time. No one paints like Condo, and his paintings are instantly recognizable. I find him to be unparalleled in his ability to mismatch different styles, balance neo-Cubism, and layer nuanced human consciousness in his paintings. Yet he is able to seamlessly bring all these elements together in creating powerful compositions.

Joel Mesler, Untitled (All We Need Is Love) (2021). Courtesy of Dow Kim.

Which works or artists are you hoping to add to your collection this year?

I’ve already acquired 11 oil and acrylic paintings this year by Ed Clark, Joel Mesler, Ferrari Sheppard, Aya Takano, Yulia Iosilzon, Paulo Nimer Pjota, and Zio Ziegler. I would like to acquire another acrylic or oil painting by one of the blue-chip artists I already have in my collection, if I can find a very good one.

At first glance of the aforementioned list of artists, one may think that I collect art randomly. But that’s not the case at all. I’m very interested in collecting different styles of paintings by many artists, because that’s what makes the collecting experience experience both exciting and satisfying. And in general, I take a common approach to acquiring a painting. First, I have to really like it and be able to enjoy looking at it on a wall every day. I always ask my daughters for second and third opinions before any purchases. Second, I try to identify artists whose works are instantly recognizable, unique, and timeless (i.e., you know a Picasso painting, a Kusama painting, or a Condo painting when you see it). And third, once I identify the artists I want to collect, I try to acquire what I consider to be their best works, if I can find and afford them.

Land of Sodom and Gomorrah (2006). Courtesy of Dow Kim.” width=”932″ height=”1024″ srcset=”https://www.mecreates.com/story/news/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/dow-kim-aya-takano-932×1024.jpg 932w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-aya-takano-273×300.jpg 273w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-aya-takano-1398×1536.jpg 1398w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-aya-takano-46×50.jpg 46w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-aya-takano.jpg 1484w” sizes=”(max-width: 932px) 100vw, 932px”>

Aya Takano, Land of Sodom and Gomorrah (2006). Courtesy of Dow Kim.

I tend to collect wide and deep since it’s my goal to build a meaningfully diversified portfolio of exciting artworks. As an example, as mentioned previously, one of the artists I collect is George Condo. Over several years, I managed to acquire three of his oil/acrylic paintings. This is what I mean by ‘deep.’ At the same time, I have more than 25 artists in my collection. And this is what I mean by ‘wide.’ My current collection includes works by both blue-chip and emerging artists: Lee Krasner, Yayoi Kusama, Nicolas Party, Ha Chong Hyun, Robert Nava, Maria Berrio, Timothy Curtis, Christopher Le Brun, and others.

Portal Study 1 (2021), left, and Portal Study 3 (2023). Courtesy of Dow Kim.” width=”855″ height=”1024″ srcset=”https://www.mecreates.com/story/news/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/dow-kim-ferrari-sheppard1-855×1024.jpg 855w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-ferrari-sheppard1-251×300.jpg 251w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-ferrari-sheppard1-1283×1536.jpg 1283w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-ferrari-sheppard1-42×50.jpg 42w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-ferrari-sheppard1.jpg 1512w” sizes=”(max-width: 855px) 100vw, 855px”>

Ferrari Sheppard, Portal Study 1 (2021), left, and Portal Study 3 (2023). Courtesy of Dow Kim.

What is the most valuable work of art that you own?

I consider my entire art collection to be valuable to me overall, because surrounding myself with them really helps me to live a satisfying and enriching artful life. But if I had to choose one, I think it would be between the Lee Krasner and Nicolas Party paintings.

Where do you buy art most frequently?

Nowadays, most of my acquisitions are from galleries. Out of the 11 paintings I acquired this year, only two were bought at auctions; the rest were acquired from galleries directly or at art fairs. I now have direct buying relationships with 12 galleries, which is helpful.

I try to attend most art fairs in New York, such as Frieze, the Armory Show, and TEFAF. I also attend Frieze Seoul and Art Basel Miami every year. And depending on my travel schedule, I try to attend other major art fairs, such as Frieze London and Art Basel in Switzerland and Hong Kong. I find the major fairs to be excellent venues for establishing and building new relationships with various galleries. I also find it relatively easier for me to acquire new artworks at art fairs, because many of the galleries still sell primary artworks on a first come, first served basis.

Social media is another source. It is a great way to stay current on art news, connect with galleries, and identify interesting artists. In my case, I’ve used Instagram to my advantage for the above purposes and found the overall experience to be very positive. In fact, I’ve been fortunate enough to connect with several galleries over Instagram to acquire primary paintings.

Is there a work you regret purchasing?

I’ve made my share of mistakes along the way. The biggest mistake was paying a very high price for an emerging/mid-career artist at an auction whose primary price was a lot lower. Although I really love the artwork, that artist has lost some shine in the secondary market. Such is part of my art collecting experience and the risk of chasing a hot artist in the secondary market.

Chemical Shark (2022). Courtesy of Dow Kim.” width=”1024″ height=”1024″ srcset=”https://www.mecreates.com/story/news/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/dow-kim-robert-nava-shark-1024×1024.jpg 1024w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-robert-nava-shark-300×300.jpg 300w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-robert-nava-shark-150×150.jpg 150w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-robert-nava-shark-50×50.jpg 50w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-robert-nava-shark-256×256.jpg 256w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-robert-nava-shark-96×96.jpg 96w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-robert-nava-shark.jpg 1262w” sizes=”(max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px”>

Robert Nava, Chemical Shark (2022). Courtesy of Dow Kim.

What work do you have hanging above your sofa? What about in your bathroom?

Whenever I acquire a significant painting, I usually hang it first in my living room above the sofa to appreciate and enjoy. Last year, I was fortunate enough to acquire a large oil painting by Robert Nava, Chemical Shark (2022), from a gallery. I think only Nava can present a shark in such a colorful, bold, and powerful image using his own distinct style. I love the overall composition and scale of the painting. Love it or hate it. I love it!

Green Top (Vétheuil) (1967). Courtesy of Dow Kim.” width=”786″ height=”1024″ srcset=”https://www.mecreates.com/story/news/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/dow-kim-ed-clark-786×1024.jpg 786w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-ed-clark-230×300.jpg 230w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-ed-clark-38×50.jpg 38w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-ed-clark.jpg 1179w” sizes=”(max-width: 786px) 100vw, 786px”>

Ed Clark, Green Top (Vétheuil) (1967). Courtesy of Dow Kim.

This year, hanging above my sofa is an Ed Clark painting titled Green Top (Vétheuil), which I acquired earlier this year. Executed in 1967, the work was created during his yearlong stay at Joan Mitchell’s house in Vétheuil, France. This work has Clark’s characteristic broad, powerful brushstrokes and radiant colors on a large-scale canvas. I absolutely love this painting.

Hanging in my bathroom is Pablo Picasso’s aquatint Bon-a-Tirer (1963). I acquired this work in 1999 while living in Tokyo.

Bon-a-Tirer (1963). Courtesy of Dow Kim.” width=”828″ height=”1024″ srcset=”https://www.mecreates.com/story/news/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/dow-kim-picasso-828×1024.jpg 828w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-picasso-243×300.jpg 243w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-picasso-1242×1536.jpg 1242w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-picasso-40×50.jpg 40w, https://news.artnet.com/app/news-upload/2023/09/dow-kim-picasso.jpg 1500w” sizes=”(max-width: 828px) 100vw, 828px”>

Pablo Picasso, Bon-a-Tirer (1963). Courtesy of Dow Kim.

What is the most impractical work of art you own?

I don’t have anything against sculptures (in fact, I have a handful of them), but for me personally, it has to be a large-scale sculpture that I acquired from a gallery in 2009. It’s in storage. I simply can’t find enough space to place it. For more than a decade, I’ve been acquiring only oil or acrylic paintings on canvas. They last forever, I can just hang them on a wall, and they are easy to store.

What work do you wish you had bought when you had the chance?

I wish I had bought a Joan Mitchell painting back in 2007–2010 when I had the chance. I didn’t pull the trigger  and also lost out on couple of bidding situations at auctions. I loved her works then, and I love her works even more today. I did manage to acquire a Lee Krasner relatively early on, when I bought an oil painting at an auction in 2006. I acquired a total of three Krasner oil paintings by 2019, but I currently have only one left. Joan Mitchell and Lee Krasner are my absolute favorite Abstract Expressionist artists.

One artist’s works I really wanted to acquire but couldn’t was Matthew Wong, circa 2017–18. I loved his large-format paintings but just couldn’t acquire his primary works from a gallery because I had no buying relationship with it. The rest is history. Wong’s artworks are now among the most sought-after nowadays, and still beautiful and mesmerizing to look at. I took some comfort in knowing that at least I can trust my eyes in identifying great artists and beautiful artworks.

If you could steal one work of art without getting caught, what would it be?

The Kiss (1908) by Gustav Klimt. So beautiful and timeless.

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In July the Evening Standard ran an article on the new “Young London Artists” (YLAs), presenting a list of wealthy heirs, it-boys and -girls and socialites supposedly “refreshing London as a cultural epicentre”. But its publication comes as soaring rents, crippling studying costs and a culture of exclusivity continue tilting the odds of art-world success further and further in favour of those with pre-existing ties to affluence. In December 2022 data from the Office of National Statistics revealed that the proportion of working-class creatives in the UK shrank by half between the 1970s and the 2010s.

Despite this, an emerging generation of artists, curators and gallerists—all without silver spoons in their mouths—is taking the British art scene by storm. Here, nine of them offer a more realistic view of what it is like to break into the art industry, the biggest obstacles they have faced and why talking about class (or socio-economic divides, as some prefer to say) remains so taboo in 2023.

Larry Achiampong is well known for his public commissions, most notably a 2022 project he created for Transport for London that reimagined the London Underground roundel in the pan-African colours of gold, green, black and red. But one of the works that the British-Ghanaian artists says he takes the most pride in is Wayfinder (2022). Set during a pandemic in an unspecified future era, the feature-length film is a reflection on multiple themes resonant to Achiampong, including belonging and displacement, race and class, and home and heritage.

Brought up in the East End of London, the artist became a parent at age 24. “Those early years were really just trying to survive as a young Black father,” he says. “My work wasn’t taken seriously because of my background. If you come from a background of monetary privilege, you can make really tough decisions with your art. You can say ‘no’ way more easily, or you can sit on something for a long time.”

Achiampong’s greatest concern today is how inaccessible studying art has become. “The game has completely changed,” he says. “If I was starting out now, I couldn’t have afforded art school.” The artist also points out that the stakeholders best positioned to reform the art world are the least inclined to do so: “Those with extreme privileges are the ones who can make those changes—we’re talking about power structures that exist within those ivory towers.” He adds that the question of how to counter the socio-economic imbalance that still dominates the sector “should really be directed at them”.

Ellie Pennick, who founded Guts Gallery in 2020, initially wanted to make art rather than deal it: “I applied for an MA at the RCA, but because of my financial status, I couldn’t study there. That’s when I began to question the broader impact of social austerity on the art world. Through this anger and frustration, I started putting on shows in the function room of a pub I lived in, and from there started Guts as an online and nomadic platform.”

Pennick says a lack of financial resources and “limited access to influential circles” have been major hurdles in sustaining their gallery. Despite this, Pennick says, “being a gallerist from a working-class background has fuelled my determination and passion for championing emerging artists”. The dealer believes the art market itself “raises questions about fairness and wealth distribution”, adding, “The act of owning and displaying art has been linked to showcasing social status and affluence, which challenges the perception that art is solely about aesthetic appreciation.”

Though Georg Wilson wanted to be an artist for as long as she remembers, she chose to study history of art at university “in the hope it might lead to employment”. At night and during weekends, however, she still painted in her bedroom. “It was only during Covid, living back with my parents after graduating, that I gave art a chance and started making work full time and selling some drawings online,” she says. For Wilson, maintaining a studio in London has been the most stressful part of being an artist. As she puts it: “Space is limited and often prohibitively expensive. I’ve been evicted from studios in the past at short notice, and I’ve been priced out of others.”

Collaborative projects have been the “most rewarding”, Wilson says, noting how, as part of her solo show with Berntson Bhattacharjee gallery in London earlier this year, she collaborated with Rowe Irvin to produce Quiver, a book of Irvin’s poems and her own drawings. Broad access to art education is crucial for maintaining a diverse landscape, Wilson thinks: “As long as the current government continues to cut the arts in schools, access will remain firmly in the hands of the privileged few with very similar backgrounds, which is a shame, because it leads to a cultural landscape that is limited and therefore quite dull.”

Woodsy Bransfield is a British artist whose work combines pop performance with more traditional studio practices such as painting. Class tensions and personal adversity have driven his creative pursuits from an early age. In his own words: “There was one other artist in my family. He was called Eddie Bransfield, my uncle, who I was enamoured with. It was the first time I heard the phrase ‘art school’ as everyone was always saying how Eddie wanted to go to this magical place called ‘art school’.”

But when Woodsy was only eight, he says, “Eddie was taken from us very suddenly and shockingly in a mindless act of violence. He was 25. This politicised me way before I had the words to articulate it. It made me deftly aware that there are countless issues which disproportionately affect communities like ours to an overwhelming degree—addiction, alcoholism, crime, violence, suicide, incarceration. It made me hell-bent on going to art school by way of what I erroneously perceived to be ‘escaping’ the estates”.

As Bransfield matured, he realised that the “minimal effort to find Eddie’s killer directly correlated to” his family’s socio-economic standing. “This switched me on to a far more insidious form of violence regarding state machination, law, how these two things are policed and who they are really in aid of,” the artist says. “I have no interest in a class war. But there are many of us for whom art remains a seriously existential pursuit. It’s why people will toil away, unpaid, unrecognised, against all odds, for decades.”

Andy Wicks, who launched Castor gallery in 2016, studied Fine Art at Middlesex University, graduating in 2006. “I recall dreaming of having a warehouse as a multipurpose space for exhibitions and studios—near impossible in London at commercial rates,” he says. For a decade, Wicks was an artist, supporting himself by working as a freelance gallery technician and fabricator. He became a gallerist after being offered a free one-year lease on a small café/bar basement in front of Goldsmiths, University of London.

For Wicks, the biggest challenge has “always—sadly—been money”. He recalls leaving his first space at the end of 2016 and having to find a way to pay rent to continue the gallery in nearby Deptford. “It was a huge leap of faith, as I didn’t really sell anything for the first two to three years,” he says. In 2022 he relocated to Fitzrovia. In just seven and a half years, he has put on 65 exhibitions, including Lindsey Mendick’s The Ex Files, Grace Woodcock’s Gut-Brain and Rafal Zajko’s Resuscitation. The gallerist thinks change is slow in the art world because it is a “closed system”. He adds: “We need to celebrate and nurture creativity rather than getting rid of ‘low value’ degrees.”

“I think I ‘fell’ into curating,” says Yates Norton, a curator at London’s Roberts Institute of Art and the developer of a public exhibition series at the Vilnius-based residency and arts centre Rupert “which sought to address issues of structural exclusions by looking to different disciplines and practices”.

Norton suggests “socio-economic status” rather than class might be a more useful term when thinking about the question of privilege in the art world, because “class is so historically freighted and means very different things to different people”. He thinks that “stories of triumph over adversity and exclusion must be celebrated”, but those stories are “part of the daily effort of many people whose individual acts of agency do not amount to the spectacular or extraordinary”.

He concludes: “In the absence of any change in the law regarding socio-economic status, we need a shift in values in the art world, balancing an overdetermined focus on heroic individuals and explosive disruptors with a more fundamental, everyday concern for building sustainable, inclusive conditions for making and sharing work.”

In her book of essays, Who does not envy with us is against us, about “working-class-ness as method”, the art critic and writer Maria Fusco recounts how she picked up the power of language not from books but from looking around her, “watching shite television and listening to my mother’s skilful cursing”.

Fusco, who has taught or guest lectured at prominent art schools such as Goldsmiths and London’s Royal Academy, says her biggest obstacles while growing up in the 1970s and 80s in North Belfast were “poverty and The Troubles”. One of her most powerful works, History of the Present, an opera-film she co-created with artist and film-maker Margaret Salmon, examines the legacies of The Troubles, foregrounding working-class women’s voices. The work premiered in London at the Royal Opera House in July. “Right now, I am proud of getting somewhere with the word ‘royal’ in its title to show challenging work about the UK’s recent violent history,” she says.

Olivia Sterling graduated with an MA from the Royal College of Art in 2020, during the height of the Covid-19 pandemic. Shortly after graduation, White Cube included her in a group show of 20 recent graduates, a lifeline for the artist at the time. “When I graduated during Covid, everyone, especially galleries, was supportive and uplifting to students.

But that didn’t last long,” she says. Luckily, she sold several paintings from her degree show, received redundancy pay from her retail job and snagged a free artist residency. Sterling then built relationships with galleries who helped sell her work, giving her the chance to focus on her practice. “Honestly, if it wasn’t for that financial help, I don’t think I’d have a career today,” she says.

Sterling’s work deals with millennia of violence at the hands of white supremacy in a wildly humorous, cartoonish way. Her most recent exhibition, Rage Comics at Huxley-Parlour, is a two-person show with Shir Cohen: “They are my best paintings to date, and it was interesting to bounce my view of whiteness against the artist I share the show with.”

Class remains a taboo in the art world, Sterling thinks, because “it’s all so opaque”. She adds: “It’s tough navigating an industry that lacks financial transparency.” Her message to galleries and collectors? “Offer more free and flexible residencies. It might sound blunt, but throwing money at the problem can actually help artists be more stable and create better work.”

Although her interest in art was nurtured as a student, Bella Bonner-Evans says she carved out her gallery career on her own. She currently works as a co-curator and head of sales at the Notting Hill gallery Studio West. “The art world is an incredibly elitist and exclusionary place, something I became intensely aware of as I attempted to get my first real gallery job,” Bonner-Evans says.

After graduating from Goldsmiths, University of London in 2021, Bonner-Evans sent off hundreds of applications but received almost no responses. “At the time, I didn’t realise how rife nepotism is in the industry; I was incredibly disheartened and felt entirely inadequate,” she says. In many ways this prepared her “for the art world’s ‘pay to play’ mentality”, forcing her to be “inventive and resilient”.

Bonner-Evans began working in arts PR and freelancing as a writer. Talking about class is counterintuitive to the art world, she thinks, “because it is not designed for those from working-class backgrounds or those who have little capital”. She adds: “Money itself is almost taboo, with prices being kept secret on the assumption that, if you were to be a collector lucky enough to be allocated a work from a major gallery’s show, the question of whether you can afford it wouldn’t even cross your mind.”