When collectors or artists pass away, it is not their will alone that determines what happens to their estate, but rather, above all, whether they established appropriate legal and institutional structures during their lifetime to ensure the long-term preservation of their life’s work. It is not enough simply to place the work or collection within a legal framework such as a foundation. It also requires a sustainable operational structure and sufficient financial resources to ensure its long-term self-sufficiency.
With the postwar boom in the art market and its globalization beginning in the 1980s, art production, private collections, and the number of professional artists have grown significantly.1 In Germany alone, the number of artists’ estates is estimated at several thousand per year.2 Added to this are the numerous private collections and museums that have emerged in parallel over the past few decades.3 Rarely has the future of so many collections and estates been so uncertain at the same time. The underlying question is the same for all of them: How can my life’s work be preserved and remain accessible in the long term, even after I am gone?
Preserving the work in context
Claude Monet left behind not only paintings, but also Giverny: the garden, the light, the atmosphere, and the very place where his works were created.4 Max Liebermann did something similar in Berlin: his villa on the Wannsee is now also open to the public as a museum.5 Donald Judd thought even bigger and transformed the remote desert town of Marfa, Texas, into a permanent exhibition space. To preserve this body of work in its context, he founded the Chinati Foundation in 1986 as an independent nonprofit institution with a permanent leadership, a collection mandate, and ongoing funding from visitor admissions, public grants, donations, and memberships.6 All of these places still exist today because they were planned and transformed into appropriate structures. Without such planning, usually only individual works remain, but not the place and its narrative.
The example of Mark Rothko shows that simply establishing a foundation is not enough. The painter had made provisions through his will, a foundation, and three appointed estate administrators. After his death in 1970, the entire estate was transferred in one fell swoop to a New York gallery: 100 works were sold, and around 700 were placed on consignment. The resulting legal dispute became one of the most famous estate scandals in art history.7 This example shows that what matters is not whether a structure exists, but how it is designed, who the key players are, and what control mechanisms are in place.
Establishing the collection as a unified whole
Like an artist’s studio, an art collection is more than the sum of its works. Its true value lies in the connections that a collector has developed over the course of a lifetime. It is precisely because of this unique narrative and distinct identity that collections such as Peggy Guggenheim’s in Venice or the Fondation Beyeler near Basel continue to attract a wide audience today. However, it is also precisely these connections that are the first things to be lost in a sale.
The collection of Microsoft co-founder Paul G. Allen shows just how quickly this can happen. Built up over decades, it was auctioned off at Christie’s in New York in 2022 over the course of just two evenings. With 155 works sold for over $1.6 billion, it was one of the most expensive private collections ever to go under the hammer.8 In this case, the sale was in accordance with Allen’s will, as the proceeds were earmarked for charitable causes. Yet the case illustrates how economic interests gain prominence as soon as significant sums are at stake, and how quickly a cultural legacy built up over decades can vanish forever and fragment into hundreds of individual ownerships; experience shows that some of these works end up in private, non-public collections.
More than just an estate planning issue: The strategic dimension
Cultural value alone does not secure a legacy. Exhibition operations, staff, real estate, conservation, and outreach incur real and ongoing costs. Those who ignore these ongoing expenses do not leave a legacy, but rather a burden for future generations. Early planning is therefore much more than just estate planning.
Feasibility studies and business cases conducted by actori for artists’ estates and collections in the DACH region show that use as a museum is possible if inventorying, digitization, preventive conservation, outreach, governance, and financing are taken into account from the very beginning. Those who organize their estate in a timely manner can set the course for these four crucial areas themselves: