of the United Kingdom’s capitol city.
On any given weekend in 2025, you might find yourself waiting in line for art the way your parents queued for concert tickets. The experience is decidedly un-gallery-like: crowds chat excitedly about Instagram posts, compare previous 'drops,' and strategize about which pieces they'll try to take home. This isn't just viewing art—it's participating in it.
Inside Phillips' Flagship Gallery on Park Avenue, 50,000 red inflatable crowns transform the austere space into something between an art installation and a pop-up shop. Visitors don these plastic coronets and emerge as both audience and artwork, collectors and participants in artist Cj Hendry's vision, the most prominent of this new breed of artists who blur the lines between collector and consumer.
Christine Miele, Retail Sales Director, E-Commerce at Phillips, remembers the day fondly: “Ever since, when I say I work at Phillips, people have excitedly asked, ‘Did you get to work with the red crowns?’”
The crown installation marks a pivotal shift in how we engage with art. When these same crowns are later reborn as trash cans hidden throughout Australian cities, they complete a circle of accessibility that would have been unthinkable in traditional art markets. Suddenly, one art piece is recycled to create another. Not sold, but found. A physical connection is formed between creator and consumer that transcends the boundary of a touch screen, and ignores the semblance of a price tag. Just the premise of a social media scavenger hunt is enough to drive appeal between fans and art collectors alike, let alone the chance to scour for a priceless piece.
Priceless? Or are they?
The plastic mementos at Phillips were free for visitors, as were the trash cans. The same cannot be said for their bronze counterparts, of which a limited release launched on Phillips’ eCommerce Dropshop platform the following day. Dropshop is ahead of the curve, a direct-to-consumer platform that connects artists to their audience. Phillips works directly with selected artists themselves, evading the industry norms of primary and secondary markets.
Today's collectors aren't just buying art—they're hunting for it, wearing it, posting it, and participating in its creation.
In a commercial sense, art has plateaued between the often transacted and the somewhat unattainable. The rejuvenation of the starving artist selling prints on New York City sidewalks, perplexed with the multimillion-dollar price tags of the Pollocks and Rembrandts. In a world of print-on-demand the commercialized nature of the art is not new, but what has changed is the perspective and spending habits of the modern art collector.
As has the market definition of an artist or even what is defined as a piece of art itself. Social media has also led to a shift in artist and consumer relationships but has equally made the market feel more accessible to newer collectors. Phillips mentions Dropshop having the power to revolutionize and modernize the “experience of art collecting,” and it’s working. Miele has seen the shift in the data: “Offering editions in all price ranges does make art more attainable, and that is reflected in the buyer base we have seen. Over 50% of our buyers in 2024 were new to Phillips and over 40% were Millennial and Gen Z collectors.” Art not being perceived as a crucial purchase, but seemingly one that speaks to a generation of investors and hobbyists swamped by a climbing property market and crypto uncertainties.
But what has driven art to become such a commercial phenomenon beyond exhibit?
Dan Law, Associate Director of The Warhol, speaks on pop artist Andy Warhol’s legacy and the ever-present commercial influence within his work. “If we unpack Warhol's art, his life and his legacy, all of its aspects lean into a strong sense of commercial viability for his art. Anyone who worked for him, particularly in factory days, but certainly into the elements of Warhol Enterprises, Warhol Films, certainly when he was growing his portrait practice to grow Interview Magazine. The idea that art and commerce were intertwined was omnipresent. It was an evergreen concept. It was like oxygen to Warhol’s practice. And oftentimes, it's seen as somewhat trite, overstated maybe in the art world, but I don't think it can be ignored. It's like the source of Warhol's entire ethos. And it traces itself back to his early career when he was working with commercial partners and lending his own art to the commercial interests of New York City in the 1950s.” As much as transactions are on the collector's mind, they’re seemingly just as front of mind for artists. Making something as commercially viable as it is creative.
Finding new ways to pour an artist’s vision into something of commercial value is a point of entry into new markets. Brands have got wind of a desire for tangibility and collaboration. We look at clothing giant Uniqlo as an example. The casual gallery enthusiast will never have the millions required to own a Warhol, Basquiat or Koons, but investing in a piece of apparel constitutes a similar trend-led appeal and relationship with an otherwise inaccessible artist.
KAWS and Warhol collaborated on a collection with the brand last year, which Law described as an opportunity to reach a new and engaged audience: “when we do exhibitions, brands like Uniqlo have invested interest in being engaged in that type of work. The reach of this type of collaboration is very significant. This type of brand and presence is a kind of collaborative, force multiplier.” These brand collaborations establish an additional distribution channel that places recognized art pieces in the hands of the consumer. A transactional relationship is unable to exist without the artist, nor the artwork itself. “Through commercial collaboration, through innovative programs, you can take wealth, you can take the economics of art and the business of art, and democratize that to the people. You can welcome new audiences and communities to these markets that have otherwise not been included.”
Far from white-gloved auction houses and unquantifiable checks is the premise that art itself is a product to be sold. Looking at history, art is not simply a commercial product, but there are intersections in these products themselves, becoming the subject of art. Law draws upon Warhol’s legacy: “Maybe we need to get comfortable with sometimes them being the same thing. I think that's what Andy was challenging us with. Recognizable examples of that would be Campbell's Soup Cans and Grillo boxes. We just call Andy the great reflector or the great democratizer. He was leveling the playing field of art in a way through pop culture.”
CJ Hendry on Instagram
The visual synergies between Hendry’s recent Bargain Bodega and Warhol’s Campbell’s Soup Cans are not lost; both turned conventional, branded products into their own art through new mediums. Though Dylon Harbottle, Studio Director at Cj Hendry, disagrees with the premise of art and product being interchangeable. “Cj’s work has frequently sought to investigate relationships between consumption and consumers through the use of both luxury and mundane subjects. If art is the product, then a relationship between artist and art is of extreme importance. Still, it can’t be reverse-engineered — it has to come from the artist's intention first and then become art that is consumed by an audience. If you start by prioritizing what the audience as a consumer wants, then you’re left with only a product, not art.”
Through commercial collaboration, through innovative programs, you can take wealth, you can take the economics of art and the business of art, and democratize that to the people. You can welcome new audiences and communities to these markets that have otherwise not been included." — Dan Law, Associate Director of The Warhol
Though there are differences between them, a distinct similarity is shown in the competition faced by each medium. A tradition that tracks back to the first public art displays in 1700s Britain and 1930s USA. Art was introduced into community spaces and galleries, making it more visible and accessible, without the transactional lens attached. Despite prioritizing public enjoyment, these spaces lend themselves to their own sense of competition. The crowded market continues today, and artists' greatest works are exhibited along the same wall. They were suddenly encouraged to experiment to make an impact in a saturated gallery.
Not dissimilar to competing commercial products stacked on shelves in a grocery store. Exposed in front of a larger audience but forced to stand out against the competition. Dropshop ignores the norm, with Miele describing how the platform remains “reserved for one artist at a time, so it really becomes a place to amplify their presence.” Either way, the digital age is seeing a shift away from simplicity but only enhanced rivalry.
Connecting audiences into art spaces can be a challenge with consumers being flooded by choice. Attracting crowds to exhibitions has expanded a desire to dream bigger and display something shareable, such as Yayoi Kusama’s infinity rooms which amass hour-long queues and sold-out runs. Eye-catching elements need to draw people in, especially when the new normal needs an online plug to conjure an in-person visit. Harbottle mentions social media being the place consumers initially interact with Hendry’s work, though exhibitions must speak for themselves. Something interactive, engaging all senses to establish a further experience derived from the artwork, to connect artist and consumer in a memorable way. It also provides the opportunity to turn a parasocial relationship into something physical. Being immersed into an environment created by an artist they admire. Harbottle agrees, “the use of public space comes back to the overall goal when creating an exhibition – connection with the audience and transcendence of place.”
What has stemmed from public immediacy to foster an interactive connection with artwork has returned to the commercial norm. People want to own a piece of art, taking something home that resonates with their experience. Just like picking up an overpriced magnet at an airport gift shop, the give-and-take is exactly what Hendry capitalizes on.
“If art is the product, then a relationship between artist and art is of extreme importance. Still, it can't be reverse-engineered — it has to come from the artist's intention first and then become art that is consumed by an audience.” — Dylon Harbottle, Studio Director at Cj Hendry
Whether with a free plastic crown or a plush flower from her Roosevelt Island “Flower Market,” where visitors could also buy the plush posies online. Harbottle speaks on the importance of this: “It really allows more people to build a tangible and long-lasting relationship with the work in its many forms. Rather than seeing something once in a gallery and then forgetting about it, taking a piece of the memory home with them is the start of a relationship for each participant.” This strategy is seemingly another way to engage newer art collectors into the commercial cycle, though Harbottle affirms that it’s not at the forefront. “An exhibition is never a commercial exercise, so it can’t really be measured by that metric. Audiences are savvy and plugged-in, they know when they’re being sold a product.” The “Flower Market” itself was so popular that police were forced to shut it down due to overcrowding, forcing an overnight move to a Brooklyn warehouse. Neither incident stopped the crowds flocking. Though it wasn’t only Hendry’s artistry that inspired the exhibition, but a unique partnership with skincare brand Clé de Peau Beauté. The fabric floral varieties, represented the brand’s ingredients. It feels comparable to free product samples being distributed by a street vendor. The taste for art can leave someone wanting more, once they are engaged and immersed in the world. “Art is probably the most accessible to own and consume as it ever has been, so collectors don’t all fit the same box. In that sense, the work only has to align with the artist's intentions, and the audience will find it… not the other way around,” Harbottle adds.
Within an evolving media landscape, the commercial interest has only ignited further by a creator-led economy, leaving it to continuously drive much of the art world. Miele agrees in highlighting how collectors are equally evolving, “in the past, collectors were much more siloed, often strictly defining themselves as ‘photography collectors’ or ‘Latin American Art’ collectors, etc. Today, people are much more interested in cross-category collecting. They want their collection to capture the breadth of that larger ecosystem.” This has led to a space for any artist to be championed, away from the conventional museum-popularized mediums, but in a world that values video and NFTs. Law states, “we need to broaden the definition of creator, whether it's sneaker designers, social media content creators, or visual artists in 2D, all of them count. I think we're making a mistake if we sort of rank them on some sort of hierarchy. Because right now, intergenerationally, the conversation's all over the place about what people value, what people care about, and what people are willing to invest in.” Initiatives by The Warhol aim to protect the future industry. Spearheading economic movements to invest back into localized art programs. “Artists create valuable things, and artists deserve economic stability and commercial success just as much as anyone else. But we shouldn't lose track of what we're making. There's more than just the economic transaction. It's not just the dollar amount that needs to define the entire industry.”
On any given weekend in 2025, you might find yourself waiting in line for art the way your parents queued for concert tickets. The experience is decidedly un-gallery-like: crowds chat excitedly about Instagram posts, compare previous 'drops,' and strategize about which pieces they'll try to take home. This isn't just viewing art—it's participating in it.
Inside Phillips' Flagship Gallery on Park Avenue, 50,000 red inflatable crowns transform the austere space into something between an art installation and a pop-up shop. Visitors don these plastic coronets and emerge as both audience and artwork, collectors and participants in artist Cj Hendry's vision, the most prominent of this new breed of artists who blur the lines between collector and consumer.
Christine Miele, Retail Sales Director, E-Commerce at Phillips, remembers the day fondly: “Ever since, when I say I work at Phillips, people have excitedly asked, ‘Did you get to work with the red crowns?’”
The crown installation marks a pivotal shift in how we engage with art. When these same crowns are later reborn as trash cans hidden throughout Australian cities, they complete a circle of accessibility that would have been unthinkable in traditional art markets. Suddenly, one art piece is recycled to create another. Not sold, but found. A physical connection is formed between creator and consumer that transcends the boundary of a touch screen, and ignores the semblance of a price tag. Just the premise of a social media scavenger hunt is enough to drive appeal between fans and art collectors alike, let alone the chance to scour for a priceless piece.
Priceless? Or are they?
The plastic mementos at Phillips were free for visitors, as were the trash cans. The same cannot be said for their bronze counterparts, of which a limited release launched on Phillips’ eCommerce Dropshop platform the following day. Dropshop is ahead of the curve, a direct-to-consumer platform that connects artists to their audience. Phillips works directly with selected artists themselves, evading the industry norms of primary and secondary markets.
Today's collectors aren't just buying art—they're hunting for it, wearing it, posting it, and participating in its creation.
In a commercial sense, art has plateaued between the often transacted and the somewhat unattainable. The rejuvenation of the starving artist selling prints on New York City sidewalks, perplexed with the multimillion-dollar price tags of the Pollocks and Rembrandts. In a world of print-on-demand the commercialized nature of the art is not new, but what has changed is the perspective and spending habits of the modern art collector.
As has the market definition of an artist or even what is defined as a piece of art itself. Social media has also led to a shift in artist and consumer relationships but has equally made the market feel more accessible to newer collectors. Phillips mentions Dropshop having the power to revolutionize and modernize the “experience of art collecting,” and it’s working. Miele has seen the shift in the data: “Offering editions in all price ranges does make art more attainable, and that is reflected in the buyer base we have seen. Over 50% of our buyers in 2024 were new to Phillips and over 40% were Millennial and Gen Z collectors.” Art not being perceived as a crucial purchase, but seemingly one that speaks to a generation of investors and hobbyists swamped by a climbing property market and crypto uncertainties.
But what has driven art to become such a commercial phenomenon beyond exhibit?
Dan Law, Associate Director of The Warhol, speaks on pop artist Andy Warhol’s legacy and the ever-present commercial influence within his work. “If we unpack Warhol's art, his life and his legacy, all of its aspects lean into a strong sense of commercial viability for his art. Anyone who worked for him, particularly in factory days, but certainly into the elements of Warhol Enterprises, Warhol Films, certainly when he was growing his portrait practice to grow Interview Magazine. The idea that art and commerce were intertwined was omnipresent. It was an evergreen concept. It was like oxygen to Warhol’s practice. And oftentimes, it's seen as somewhat trite, overstated maybe in the art world, but I don't think it can be ignored. It's like the source of Warhol's entire ethos. And it traces itself back to his early career when he was working with commercial partners and lending his own art to the commercial interests of New York City in the 1950s.” As much as transactions are on the collector's mind, they’re seemingly just as front of mind for artists. Making something as commercially viable as it is creative.
Finding new ways to pour an artist’s vision into something of commercial value is a point of entry into new markets. Brands have got wind of a desire for tangibility and collaboration. We look at clothing giant Uniqlo as an example. The casual gallery enthusiast will never have the millions required to own a Warhol, Basquiat or Koons, but investing in a piece of apparel constitutes a similar trend-led appeal and relationship with an otherwise inaccessible artist.
KAWS and Warhol collaborated on a collection with the brand last year, which Law described as an opportunity to reach a new and engaged audience: “when we do exhibitions, brands like Uniqlo have invested interest in being engaged in that type of work. The reach of this type of collaboration is very significant. This type of brand and presence is a kind of collaborative, force multiplier.” These brand collaborations establish an additional distribution channel that places recognized art pieces in the hands of the consumer. A transactional relationship is unable to exist without the artist, nor the artwork itself. “Through commercial collaboration, through innovative programs, you can take wealth, you can take the economics of art and the business of art, and democratize that to the people. You can welcome new audiences and communities to these markets that have otherwise not been included.”
Far from white-gloved auction houses and unquantifiable checks is the premise that art itself is a product to be sold. Looking at history, art is not simply a commercial product, but there are intersections in these products themselves, becoming the subject of art. Law draws upon Warhol’s legacy: “Maybe we need to get comfortable with sometimes them being the same thing. I think that's what Andy was challenging us with. Recognizable examples of that would be Campbell's Soup Cans and Grillo boxes. We just call Andy the great reflector or the great democratizer. He was leveling the playing field of art in a way through pop culture.”
CJ Hendry on Instagram
The visual synergies between Hendry’s recent Bargain Bodega and Warhol’s Campbell’s Soup Cans are not lost; both turned conventional, branded products into their own art through new mediums. Though Dylon Harbottle, Studio Director at Cj Hendry, disagrees with the premise of art and product being interchangeable. “Cj’s work has frequently sought to investigate relationships between consumption and consumers through the use of both luxury and mundane subjects. If art is the product, then a relationship between artist and art is of extreme importance. Still, it can’t be reverse-engineered — it has to come from the artist's intention first and then become art that is consumed by an audience. If you start by prioritizing what the audience as a consumer wants, then you’re left with only a product, not art.”
Through commercial collaboration, through innovative programs, you can take wealth, you can take the economics of art and the business of art, and democratize that to the people. You can welcome new audiences and communities to these markets that have otherwise not been included." — Dan Law, Associate Director of The Warhol
Though there are differences between them, a distinct similarity is shown in the competition faced by each medium. A tradition that tracks back to the first public art displays in 1700s Britain and 1930s USA. Art was introduced into community spaces and galleries, making it more visible and accessible, without the transactional lens attached. Despite prioritizing public enjoyment, these spaces lend themselves to their own sense of competition. The crowded market continues today, and artists' greatest works are exhibited along the same wall. They were suddenly encouraged to experiment to make an impact in a saturated gallery.
Not dissimilar to competing commercial products stacked on shelves in a grocery store. Exposed in front of a larger audience but forced to stand out against the competition. Dropshop ignores the norm, with Miele describing how the platform remains “reserved for one artist at a time, so it really becomes a place to amplify their presence.” Either way, the digital age is seeing a shift away from simplicity but only enhanced rivalry.
Connecting audiences into art spaces can be a challenge with consumers being flooded by choice. Attracting crowds to exhibitions has expanded a desire to dream bigger and display something shareable, such as Yayoi Kusama’s infinity rooms which amass hour-long queues and sold-out runs. Eye-catching elements need to draw people in, especially when the new normal needs an online plug to conjure an in-person visit. Harbottle mentions social media being the place consumers initially interact with Hendry’s work, though exhibitions must speak for themselves. Something interactive, engaging all senses to establish a further experience derived from the artwork, to connect artist and consumer in a memorable way. It also provides the opportunity to turn a parasocial relationship into something physical. Being immersed into an environment created by an artist they admire. Harbottle agrees, “the use of public space comes back to the overall goal when creating an exhibition – connection with the audience and transcendence of place.”
What has stemmed from public immediacy to foster an interactive connection with artwork has returned to the commercial norm. People want to own a piece of art, taking something home that resonates with their experience. Just like picking up an overpriced magnet at an airport gift shop, the give-and-take is exactly what Hendry capitalizes on.
“If art is the product, then a relationship between artist and art is of extreme importance. Still, it can't be reverse-engineered — it has to come from the artist's intention first and then become art that is consumed by an audience.” — Dylon Harbottle, Studio Director at Cj Hendry
Whether with a free plastic crown or a plush flower from her Roosevelt Island “Flower Market,” where visitors could also buy the plush posies online. Harbottle speaks on the importance of this: “It really allows more people to build a tangible and long-lasting relationship with the work in its many forms. Rather than seeing something once in a gallery and then forgetting about it, taking a piece of the memory home with them is the start of a relationship for each participant.” This strategy is seemingly another way to engage newer art collectors into the commercial cycle, though Harbottle affirms that it’s not at the forefront. “An exhibition is never a commercial exercise, so it can’t really be measured by that metric. Audiences are savvy and plugged-in, they know when they’re being sold a product.” The “Flower Market” itself was so popular that police were forced to shut it down due to overcrowding, forcing an overnight move to a Brooklyn warehouse. Neither incident stopped the crowds flocking. Though it wasn’t only Hendry’s artistry that inspired the exhibition, but a unique partnership with skincare brand Clé de Peau Beauté. The fabric floral varieties, represented the brand’s ingredients. It feels comparable to free product samples being distributed by a street vendor. The taste for art can leave someone wanting more, once they are engaged and immersed in the world. “Art is probably the most accessible to own and consume as it ever has been, so collectors don’t all fit the same box. In that sense, the work only has to align with the artist's intentions, and the audience will find it… not the other way around,” Harbottle adds.
Within an evolving media landscape, the commercial interest has only ignited further by a creator-led economy, leaving it to continuously drive much of the art world. Miele agrees in highlighting how collectors are equally evolving, “in the past, collectors were much more siloed, often strictly defining themselves as ‘photography collectors’ or ‘Latin American Art’ collectors, etc. Today, people are much more interested in cross-category collecting. They want their collection to capture the breadth of that larger ecosystem.” This has led to a space for any artist to be championed, away from the conventional museum-popularized mediums, but in a world that values video and NFTs. Law states, “we need to broaden the definition of creator, whether it's sneaker designers, social media content creators, or visual artists in 2D, all of them count. I think we're making a mistake if we sort of rank them on some sort of hierarchy. Because right now, intergenerationally, the conversation's all over the place about what people value, what people care about, and what people are willing to invest in.” Initiatives by The Warhol aim to protect the future industry. Spearheading economic movements to invest back into localized art programs. “Artists create valuable things, and artists deserve economic stability and commercial success just as much as anyone else. But we shouldn't lose track of what we're making. There's more than just the economic transaction. It's not just the dollar amount that needs to define the entire industry.”
On any given weekend in 2025, you might find yourself waiting in line for art the way your parents queued for concert tickets. The experience is decidedly un-gallery-like: crowds chat excitedly about Instagram posts, compare previous 'drops,' and strategize about which pieces they'll try to take home. This isn't just viewing art—it's participating in it.
Inside Phillips' Flagship Gallery on Park Avenue, 50,000 red inflatable crowns transform the austere space into something between an art installation and a pop-up shop. Visitors don these plastic coronets and emerge as both audience and artwork, collectors and participants in artist Cj Hendry's vision, the most prominent of this new breed of artists who blur the lines between collector and consumer.
Christine Miele, Retail Sales Director, E-Commerce at Phillips, remembers the day fondly: “Ever since, when I say I work at Phillips, people have excitedly asked, ‘Did you get to work with the red crowns?’”
The crown installation marks a pivotal shift in how we engage with art. When these same crowns are later reborn as trash cans hidden throughout Australian cities, they complete a circle of accessibility that would have been unthinkable in traditional art markets. Suddenly, one art piece is recycled to create another. Not sold, but found. A physical connection is formed between creator and consumer that transcends the boundary of a touch screen, and ignores the semblance of a price tag. Just the premise of a social media scavenger hunt is enough to drive appeal between fans and art collectors alike, let alone the chance to scour for a priceless piece.
Priceless? Or are they?
The plastic mementos at Phillips were free for visitors, as were the trash cans. The same cannot be said for their bronze counterparts, of which a limited release launched on Phillips’ eCommerce Dropshop platform the following day. Dropshop is ahead of the curve, a direct-to-consumer platform that connects artists to their audience. Phillips works directly with selected artists themselves, evading the industry norms of primary and secondary markets.
Today's collectors aren't just buying art—they're hunting for it, wearing it, posting it, and participating in its creation.
In a commercial sense, art has plateaued between the often transacted and the somewhat unattainable. The rejuvenation of the starving artist selling prints on New York City sidewalks, perplexed with the multimillion-dollar price tags of the Pollocks and Rembrandts. In a world of print-on-demand the commercialized nature of the art is not new, but what has changed is the perspective and spending habits of the modern art collector.
As has the market definition of an artist or even what is defined as a piece of art itself. Social media has also led to a shift in artist and consumer relationships but has equally made the market feel more accessible to newer collectors. Phillips mentions Dropshop having the power to revolutionize and modernize the “experience of art collecting,” and it’s working. Miele has seen the shift in the data: “Offering editions in all price ranges does make art more attainable, and that is reflected in the buyer base we have seen. Over 50% of our buyers in 2024 were new to Phillips and over 40% were Millennial and Gen Z collectors.” Art not being perceived as a crucial purchase, but seemingly one that speaks to a generation of investors and hobbyists swamped by a climbing property market and crypto uncertainties.
But what has driven art to become such a commercial phenomenon beyond exhibit?
Dan Law, Associate Director of The Warhol, speaks on pop artist Andy Warhol’s legacy and the ever-present commercial influence within his work. “If we unpack Warhol's art, his life and his legacy, all of its aspects lean into a strong sense of commercial viability for his art. Anyone who worked for him, particularly in factory days, but certainly into the elements of Warhol Enterprises, Warhol Films, certainly when he was growing his portrait practice to grow Interview Magazine. The idea that art and commerce were intertwined was omnipresent. It was an evergreen concept. It was like oxygen to Warhol’s practice. And oftentimes, it's seen as somewhat trite, overstated maybe in the art world, but I don't think it can be ignored. It's like the source of Warhol's entire ethos. And it traces itself back to his early career when he was working with commercial partners and lending his own art to the commercial interests of New York City in the 1950s.” As much as transactions are on the collector's mind, they’re seemingly just as front of mind for artists. Making something as commercially viable as it is creative.
Finding new ways to pour an artist’s vision into something of commercial value is a point of entry into new markets. Brands have got wind of a desire for tangibility and collaboration. We look at clothing giant Uniqlo as an example. The casual gallery enthusiast will never have the millions required to own a Warhol, Basquiat or Koons, but investing in a piece of apparel constitutes a similar trend-led appeal and relationship with an otherwise inaccessible artist.
KAWS and Warhol collaborated on a collection with the brand last year, which Law described as an opportunity to reach a new and engaged audience: “when we do exhibitions, brands like Uniqlo have invested interest in being engaged in that type of work. The reach of this type of collaboration is very significant. This type of brand and presence is a kind of collaborative, force multiplier.” These brand collaborations establish an additional distribution channel that places recognized art pieces in the hands of the consumer. A transactional relationship is unable to exist without the artist, nor the artwork itself. “Through commercial collaboration, through innovative programs, you can take wealth, you can take the economics of art and the business of art, and democratize that to the people. You can welcome new audiences and communities to these markets that have otherwise not been included.”
Far from white-gloved auction houses and unquantifiable checks is the premise that art itself is a product to be sold. Looking at history, art is not simply a commercial product, but there are intersections in these products themselves, becoming the subject of art. Law draws upon Warhol’s legacy: “Maybe we need to get comfortable with sometimes them being the same thing. I think that's what Andy was challenging us with. Recognizable examples of that would be Campbell's Soup Cans and Grillo boxes. We just call Andy the great reflector or the great democratizer. He was leveling the playing field of art in a way through pop culture.”
CJ Hendry on Instagram
The visual synergies between Hendry’s recent Bargain Bodega and Warhol’s Campbell’s Soup Cans are not lost; both turned conventional, branded products into their own art through new mediums. Though Dylon Harbottle, Studio Director at Cj Hendry, disagrees with the premise of art and product being interchangeable. “Cj’s work has frequently sought to investigate relationships between consumption and consumers through the use of both luxury and mundane subjects. If art is the product, then a relationship between artist and art is of extreme importance. Still, it can’t be reverse-engineered — it has to come from the artist's intention first and then become art that is consumed by an audience. If you start by prioritizing what the audience as a consumer wants, then you’re left with only a product, not art.”
Through commercial collaboration, through innovative programs, you can take wealth, you can take the economics of art and the business of art, and democratize that to the people. You can welcome new audiences and communities to these markets that have otherwise not been included." — Dan Law, Associate Director of The Warhol
Though there are differences between them, a distinct similarity is shown in the competition faced by each medium. A tradition that tracks back to the first public art displays in 1700s Britain and 1930s USA. Art was introduced into community spaces and galleries, making it more visible and accessible, without the transactional lens attached. Despite prioritizing public enjoyment, these spaces lend themselves to their own sense of competition. The crowded market continues today, and artists' greatest works are exhibited along the same wall. They were suddenly encouraged to experiment to make an impact in a saturated gallery.
Not dissimilar to competing commercial products stacked on shelves in a grocery store. Exposed in front of a larger audience but forced to stand out against the competition. Dropshop ignores the norm, with Miele describing how the platform remains “reserved for one artist at a time, so it really becomes a place to amplify their presence.” Either way, the digital age is seeing a shift away from simplicity but only enhanced rivalry.
Connecting audiences into art spaces can be a challenge with consumers being flooded by choice. Attracting crowds to exhibitions has expanded a desire to dream bigger and display something shareable, such as Yayoi Kusama’s infinity rooms which amass hour-long queues and sold-out runs. Eye-catching elements need to draw people in, especially when the new normal needs an online plug to conjure an in-person visit. Harbottle mentions social media being the place consumers initially interact with Hendry’s work, though exhibitions must speak for themselves. Something interactive, engaging all senses to establish a further experience derived from the artwork, to connect artist and consumer in a memorable way. It also provides the opportunity to turn a parasocial relationship into something physical. Being immersed into an environment created by an artist they admire. Harbottle agrees, “the use of public space comes back to the overall goal when creating an exhibition – connection with the audience and transcendence of place.”
What has stemmed from public immediacy to foster an interactive connection with artwork has returned to the commercial norm. People want to own a piece of art, taking something home that resonates with their experience. Just like picking up an overpriced magnet at an airport gift shop, the give-and-take is exactly what Hendry capitalizes on.
“If art is the product, then a relationship between artist and art is of extreme importance. Still, it can't be reverse-engineered — it has to come from the artist's intention first and then become art that is consumed by an audience.” — Dylon Harbottle, Studio Director at Cj Hendry
Whether with a free plastic crown or a plush flower from her Roosevelt Island “Flower Market,” where visitors could also buy the plush posies online. Harbottle speaks on the importance of this: “It really allows more people to build a tangible and long-lasting relationship with the work in its many forms. Rather than seeing something once in a gallery and then forgetting about it, taking a piece of the memory home with them is the start of a relationship for each participant.” This strategy is seemingly another way to engage newer art collectors into the commercial cycle, though Harbottle affirms that it’s not at the forefront. “An exhibition is never a commercial exercise, so it can’t really be measured by that metric. Audiences are savvy and plugged-in, they know when they’re being sold a product.” The “Flower Market” itself was so popular that police were forced to shut it down due to overcrowding, forcing an overnight move to a Brooklyn warehouse. Neither incident stopped the crowds flocking. Though it wasn’t only Hendry’s artistry that inspired the exhibition, but a unique partnership with skincare brand Clé de Peau Beauté. The fabric floral varieties, represented the brand’s ingredients. It feels comparable to free product samples being distributed by a street vendor. The taste for art can leave someone wanting more, once they are engaged and immersed in the world. “Art is probably the most accessible to own and consume as it ever has been, so collectors don’t all fit the same box. In that sense, the work only has to align with the artist's intentions, and the audience will find it… not the other way around,” Harbottle adds.
Within an evolving media landscape, the commercial interest has only ignited further by a creator-led economy, leaving it to continuously drive much of the art world. Miele agrees in highlighting how collectors are equally evolving, “in the past, collectors were much more siloed, often strictly defining themselves as ‘photography collectors’ or ‘Latin American Art’ collectors, etc. Today, people are much more interested in cross-category collecting. They want their collection to capture the breadth of that larger ecosystem.” This has led to a space for any artist to be championed, away from the conventional museum-popularized mediums, but in a world that values video and NFTs. Law states, “we need to broaden the definition of creator, whether it's sneaker designers, social media content creators, or visual artists in 2D, all of them count. I think we're making a mistake if we sort of rank them on some sort of hierarchy. Because right now, intergenerationally, the conversation's all over the place about what people value, what people care about, and what people are willing to invest in.” Initiatives by The Warhol aim to protect the future industry. Spearheading economic movements to invest back into localized art programs. “Artists create valuable things, and artists deserve economic stability and commercial success just as much as anyone else. But we shouldn't lose track of what we're making. There's more than just the economic transaction. It's not just the dollar amount that needs to define the entire industry.”
On any given weekend in 2025, you might find yourself waiting in line for art the way your parents queued for concert tickets. The experience is decidedly un-gallery-like: crowds chat excitedly about Instagram posts, compare previous 'drops,' and strategize about which pieces they'll try to take home. This isn't just viewing art—it's participating in it.
Inside Phillips' Flagship Gallery on Park Avenue, 50,000 red inflatable crowns transform the austere space into something between an art installation and a pop-up shop. Visitors don these plastic coronets and emerge as both audience and artwork, collectors and participants in artist Cj Hendry's vision, the most prominent of this new breed of artists who blur the lines between collector and consumer.
Christine Miele, Retail Sales Director, E-Commerce at Phillips, remembers the day fondly: “Ever since, when I say I work at Phillips, people have excitedly asked, ‘Did you get to work with the red crowns?’”
The crown installation marks a pivotal shift in how we engage with art. When these same crowns are later reborn as trash cans hidden throughout Australian cities, they complete a circle of accessibility that would have been unthinkable in traditional art markets. Suddenly, one art piece is recycled to create another. Not sold, but found. A physical connection is formed between creator and consumer that transcends the boundary of a touch screen, and ignores the semblance of a price tag. Just the premise of a social media scavenger hunt is enough to drive appeal between fans and art collectors alike, let alone the chance to scour for a priceless piece.
Priceless? Or are they?
The plastic mementos at Phillips were free for visitors, as were the trash cans. The same cannot be said for their bronze counterparts, of which a limited release launched on Phillips’ eCommerce Dropshop platform the following day. Dropshop is ahead of the curve, a direct-to-consumer platform that connects artists to their audience. Phillips works directly with selected artists themselves, evading the industry norms of primary and secondary markets.
Today's collectors aren't just buying art—they're hunting for it, wearing it, posting it, and participating in its creation.
In a commercial sense, art has plateaued between the often transacted and the somewhat unattainable. The rejuvenation of the starving artist selling prints on New York City sidewalks, perplexed with the multimillion-dollar price tags of the Pollocks and Rembrandts. In a world of print-on-demand the commercialized nature of the art is not new, but what has changed is the perspective and spending habits of the modern art collector.
As has the market definition of an artist or even what is defined as a piece of art itself. Social media has also led to a shift in artist and consumer relationships but has equally made the market feel more accessible to newer collectors. Phillips mentions Dropshop having the power to revolutionize and modernize the “experience of art collecting,” and it’s working. Miele has seen the shift in the data: “Offering editions in all price ranges does make art more attainable, and that is reflected in the buyer base we have seen. Over 50% of our buyers in 2024 were new to Phillips and over 40% were Millennial and Gen Z collectors.” Art not being perceived as a crucial purchase, but seemingly one that speaks to a generation of investors and hobbyists swamped by a climbing property market and crypto uncertainties.
But what has driven art to become such a commercial phenomenon beyond exhibit?
Dan Law, Associate Director of The Warhol, speaks on pop artist Andy Warhol’s legacy and the ever-present commercial influence within his work. “If we unpack Warhol's art, his life and his legacy, all of its aspects lean into a strong sense of commercial viability for his art. Anyone who worked for him, particularly in factory days, but certainly into the elements of Warhol Enterprises, Warhol Films, certainly when he was growing his portrait practice to grow Interview Magazine. The idea that art and commerce were intertwined was omnipresent. It was an evergreen concept. It was like oxygen to Warhol’s practice. And oftentimes, it's seen as somewhat trite, overstated maybe in the art world, but I don't think it can be ignored. It's like the source of Warhol's entire ethos. And it traces itself back to his early career when he was working with commercial partners and lending his own art to the commercial interests of New York City in the 1950s.” As much as transactions are on the collector's mind, they’re seemingly just as front of mind for artists. Making something as commercially viable as it is creative.
Finding new ways to pour an artist’s vision into something of commercial value is a point of entry into new markets. Brands have got wind of a desire for tangibility and collaboration. We look at clothing giant Uniqlo as an example. The casual gallery enthusiast will never have the millions required to own a Warhol, Basquiat or Koons, but investing in a piece of apparel constitutes a similar trend-led appeal and relationship with an otherwise inaccessible artist.
KAWS and Warhol collaborated on a collection with the brand last year, which Law described as an opportunity to reach a new and engaged audience: “when we do exhibitions, brands like Uniqlo have invested interest in being engaged in that type of work. The reach of this type of collaboration is very significant. This type of brand and presence is a kind of collaborative, force multiplier.” These brand collaborations establish an additional distribution channel that places recognized art pieces in the hands of the consumer. A transactional relationship is unable to exist without the artist, nor the artwork itself. “Through commercial collaboration, through innovative programs, you can take wealth, you can take the economics of art and the business of art, and democratize that to the people. You can welcome new audiences and communities to these markets that have otherwise not been included.”
Far from white-gloved auction houses and unquantifiable checks is the premise that art itself is a product to be sold. Looking at history, art is not simply a commercial product, but there are intersections in these products themselves, becoming the subject of art. Law draws upon Warhol’s legacy: “Maybe we need to get comfortable with sometimes them being the same thing. I think that's what Andy was challenging us with. Recognizable examples of that would be Campbell's Soup Cans and Grillo boxes. We just call Andy the great reflector or the great democratizer. He was leveling the playing field of art in a way through pop culture.”
CJ Hendry on Instagram
The visual synergies between Hendry’s recent Bargain Bodega and Warhol’s Campbell’s Soup Cans are not lost; both turned conventional, branded products into their own art through new mediums. Though Dylon Harbottle, Studio Director at Cj Hendry, disagrees with the premise of art and product being interchangeable. “Cj’s work has frequently sought to investigate relationships between consumption and consumers through the use of both luxury and mundane subjects. If art is the product, then a relationship between artist and art is of extreme importance. Still, it can’t be reverse-engineered — it has to come from the artist's intention first and then become art that is consumed by an audience. If you start by prioritizing what the audience as a consumer wants, then you’re left with only a product, not art.”
Through commercial collaboration, through innovative programs, you can take wealth, you can take the economics of art and the business of art, and democratize that to the people. You can welcome new audiences and communities to these markets that have otherwise not been included." — Dan Law, Associate Director of The Warhol
Though there are differences between them, a distinct similarity is shown in the competition faced by each medium. A tradition that tracks back to the first public art displays in 1700s Britain and 1930s USA. Art was introduced into community spaces and galleries, making it more visible and accessible, without the transactional lens attached. Despite prioritizing public enjoyment, these spaces lend themselves to their own sense of competition. The crowded market continues today, and artists' greatest works are exhibited along the same wall. They were suddenly encouraged to experiment to make an impact in a saturated gallery.
Not dissimilar to competing commercial products stacked on shelves in a grocery store. Exposed in front of a larger audience but forced to stand out against the competition. Dropshop ignores the norm, with Miele describing how the platform remains “reserved for one artist at a time, so it really becomes a place to amplify their presence.” Either way, the digital age is seeing a shift away from simplicity but only enhanced rivalry.
Connecting audiences into art spaces can be a challenge with consumers being flooded by choice. Attracting crowds to exhibitions has expanded a desire to dream bigger and display something shareable, such as Yayoi Kusama’s infinity rooms which amass hour-long queues and sold-out runs. Eye-catching elements need to draw people in, especially when the new normal needs an online plug to conjure an in-person visit. Harbottle mentions social media being the place consumers initially interact with Hendry’s work, though exhibitions must speak for themselves. Something interactive, engaging all senses to establish a further experience derived from the artwork, to connect artist and consumer in a memorable way. It also provides the opportunity to turn a parasocial relationship into something physical. Being immersed into an environment created by an artist they admire. Harbottle agrees, “the use of public space comes back to the overall goal when creating an exhibition – connection with the audience and transcendence of place.”
What has stemmed from public immediacy to foster an interactive connection with artwork has returned to the commercial norm. People want to own a piece of art, taking something home that resonates with their experience. Just like picking up an overpriced magnet at an airport gift shop, the give-and-take is exactly what Hendry capitalizes on.
“If art is the product, then a relationship between artist and art is of extreme importance. Still, it can't be reverse-engineered — it has to come from the artist's intention first and then become art that is consumed by an audience.” — Dylon Harbottle, Studio Director at Cj Hendry
Whether with a free plastic crown or a plush flower from her Roosevelt Island “Flower Market,” where visitors could also buy the plush posies online. Harbottle speaks on the importance of this: “It really allows more people to build a tangible and long-lasting relationship with the work in its many forms. Rather than seeing something once in a gallery and then forgetting about it, taking a piece of the memory home with them is the start of a relationship for each participant.” This strategy is seemingly another way to engage newer art collectors into the commercial cycle, though Harbottle affirms that it’s not at the forefront. “An exhibition is never a commercial exercise, so it can’t really be measured by that metric. Audiences are savvy and plugged-in, they know when they’re being sold a product.” The “Flower Market” itself was so popular that police were forced to shut it down due to overcrowding, forcing an overnight move to a Brooklyn warehouse. Neither incident stopped the crowds flocking. Though it wasn’t only Hendry’s artistry that inspired the exhibition, but a unique partnership with skincare brand Clé de Peau Beauté. The fabric floral varieties, represented the brand’s ingredients. It feels comparable to free product samples being distributed by a street vendor. The taste for art can leave someone wanting more, once they are engaged and immersed in the world. “Art is probably the most accessible to own and consume as it ever has been, so collectors don’t all fit the same box. In that sense, the work only has to align with the artist's intentions, and the audience will find it… not the other way around,” Harbottle adds.
Within an evolving media landscape, the commercial interest has only ignited further by a creator-led economy, leaving it to continuously drive much of the art world. Miele agrees in highlighting how collectors are equally evolving, “in the past, collectors were much more siloed, often strictly defining themselves as ‘photography collectors’ or ‘Latin American Art’ collectors, etc. Today, people are much more interested in cross-category collecting. They want their collection to capture the breadth of that larger ecosystem.” This has led to a space for any artist to be championed, away from the conventional museum-popularized mediums, but in a world that values video and NFTs. Law states, “we need to broaden the definition of creator, whether it's sneaker designers, social media content creators, or visual artists in 2D, all of them count. I think we're making a mistake if we sort of rank them on some sort of hierarchy. Because right now, intergenerationally, the conversation's all over the place about what people value, what people care about, and what people are willing to invest in.” Initiatives by The Warhol aim to protect the future industry. Spearheading economic movements to invest back into localized art programs. “Artists create valuable things, and artists deserve economic stability and commercial success just as much as anyone else. But we shouldn't lose track of what we're making. There's more than just the economic transaction. It's not just the dollar amount that needs to define the entire industry.”
Continue Reading...
THIS ARTICLE IS FOR MEMBERS ONLY
Insights and futurism for executives in eCom and Retail
Those things we shouldn’t say out loud? We say them on the private feed. Bi-weekly “after dark” podcasts and a members-only newsletter, just for subscribers.
Our research reports combine visionary thinking with data-backed findings from our own advisory panel, made up of leaders at brands you know and trust.
Query and prompt our vast archive of research, podcasts, and newsletters with a ChatGPT-like interface. Get exclusive access to Alani™, the AI-powered engine for Future Commerce, powered by BundleIQ.
.jpg)
