Art is no longer enough (and perhaps it never was)
At the Deloitte Gallery, amidst fashion, foundations and big names, the talk is all about the system. But outside that system, artists today struggle even to survive
There are places in Milan that compel you to stop, even if only for a few minutes, to look and listen. The Deloitte Gallery, formerly the church of San Paolo Converso, is one of them. I had been there years ago, when it housed an architectural practice, and I remembered it as a powerful, almost silent space, but stepping inside during this event was different: more crowded, more structured, almost theatrical. Inside, works that interact with the space, including Liturgica by Giuseppe Lo Schiavo, a young artist invited to contribute to the Gallery’s context, in an initiative that effectively captures the most tangible sense of contemporary patronage: when an institution decides not only to host, but to produce and support. At the centre of the space stands Capita Aurea by Fabrizio Plessi, an imperial head slowly dissolving into liquid gold, creating a hypnotic, suspended sensation in the viewer. And then there is the audience, the speakers, the panels – an afternoon orchestrated with precision, in which everything seems to have its place.
Everyone talks about the system. But who is the system for?
“Fashion Patrons” is, at least on paper, exactly what is needed today: a concrete attempt to bring together fashion, art, business and foundations, and to truly understand where we are heading. The figures presented by Deloitte confirm this quite clearly: 66% of companies promote artistic and cultural initiatives, and more than half do so on an ongoing basis, a sign that this is no longer just about communication or positioning, but about a structure that is being built and which, at least in part, is working.
Without someone to pay for it, art doesn’t exist
This feeling also comes across clearly when listening to the speakers. At one point, Michelangelo Pistoletto puts it very bluntly: “There is nothing that has not had someone to support and bring it to life. Art alone struggles to express itself.” And then he adds: “Clothing is a second skin. Living is the third.” As if to say that everything is part of a larger system, in which aesthetics, function and daily life are constantly intertwined.
Milan works really well. Perhaps that is precisely the problem
The talks flow, and everything falls into place, perhaps a little too perfectly. Giovanni Bonotto describes a factory that becomes a creative space and says that “the artists have given us the glasses of imagination”. Antonio Marras steps into the process and strips it down to its essentials: “The process is the same. The materials change.” Beatrice Trussardi, perhaps the most direct, drops a phrase that lingers: “Milan is a bit bulimic.”
And it is precisely at that moment that something truly opens up. Because yes, Milan works, produces, organises, brings together different worlds, but at the same time risks becoming a self-perpetuating system, one that continues to grow upon itself without truly questioning what is missing.
There’s always someone missing from the conversation: the artists
And yet, whilst everything is working, whilst everything is falling into place, at a certain point you start to feel that something is missing. And the question is simple: where are the artists today? Not the established ones, not those sitting on stage, but those who are trying to make it.
Because the reality, outside these contexts, is far less glamorous than the one described here. An artist today struggles to produce work, struggles to find venues, struggles to secure funding from foundations, struggles to find someone who will truly invest in them and, above all, has no clear path forward.
In other sectors, there are systems, incubators, programmes, accelerators; there are structures that support talent over time. In the art world, no – or rather, there are initiatives, residencies, projects – but they are often fragmented, sporadic, they do not build continuity and do not really lead anywhere, except to another similar opportunity.
Patronage exists. The system does not.
There is much talk of patronage, and rightly so, but the truth is that today systemic patronage does not exist, or exists in such small quantities that it cannot really make a difference. And this creates a clear imbalance, because whilst the fashion industry is building ever more solid and sophisticated structures, contemporary art – the living, fragile art that should shape the future – remains exposed, without a real network to sustain it over time.
Art serves fashion. But who really benefits from this exchange?
And perhaps this is precisely where the conversation really shifts.
Because it’s all very well to talk about patronage, foundations, support and culture, but it’s quite clear that today the relationship between fashion and art is no longer merely a cultural matter; it has become something far more strategic.
Fashion needs art. Not just because it sounds good to say so, but because it’s necessary. It helps to establish a position; it helps to build a narrative that goes beyond the product, beyond pure marketing, which on its own no longer holds up. Art provides depth, it provides meaning, it provides that dimension which otherwise risks being missing.
And at the same time, art needs fashion, because without someone who truly invests, producing work today is increasingly difficult.
The point is that this exchange is not as neutral as it seems.
Because very often support comes when it’s needed, when it’s useful, when it fits with a project, with visibility, with a specific moment. But it rarely becomes something that truly lasts over time, something that builds a path.
And so the question, here too, always comes back to the same thing: are we talking about support for art, or a system that uses art when it suits it?
The problem isn’t the event. It’s the country
Because this isn’t just about a successful event. It’s about a system.
Italy is the country of art, the country of fashion; we have the Biennale, we have a unique heritage, a history that no one can replicate, and yet we fail to create a genuine pathway for those who should be making that art today – not on a continuous basis, not in a structured way, not in an accessible way.
Leaving San Paolo Converso, the feeling is twofold: on the one hand, a system that presents itself well, that grows, that invests, that organises itself; on the other, a void – the gap between those who talk about art and those who try to truly live within it.
The question that remains (and which nobody has asked)
It is no longer those who support art, but those who are actually creating the conditions that allow artists to thrive.
Because one thing is certain: art alone is not enough, but without artists, everything else is not enough either.
