For much of modern history, museums have served as gatekeepers of culture. Often opaque in their authority and quietly prescriptive in their tastes, they're signalling what merits our attention, what holds cultural value, and, by implication, what does not. 

It’s no coincidence that many of the world’s most revered museums are housed in former palaces or private estates. Even purpose-built museums, like London’s National Gallery, with its Corinthian columns and pedimented portico, echo the architecture of temples. The architecture itself reinforces the hierarchy within, implying that art is sacred and preserved by those with the education and taste to understand it. 

The transition from traditional institutions to alternative spaces, sometimes temporary or repurposed, signals an ongoing reimagining of how and where culture is experienced. Tate Modern, once Bankside Power Station, was seen as radical when it opened in 2000. The space feels more civic than sacred, though it still speaks the language of scale and permanence.

That was already 25 years ago, and in the time since, the reverence once afforded to these institutions has quietly eroded. If museums were once the arbiters of taste, they are now being asked to justify their place in a wider cultural economy. Audiences are looking elsewhere, not just for art, but for relevance. And artists, no longer patiently waiting for institutional validation, are building new models entirely. The result is a cultural reframing, happening in real time and in unexpected places — less a dismantling of the museum, and more a reconfiguration of where culture lives and how it’s sustained. 

At Artiq, we’ve spent the past fifteen years demonstrating that art doesn’t need to be confined to traditional gallery spaces to create value and make an impact. Instead, it can exist in the spaces people already inhabit — offices, universities, hotels. These spaces aren’t neutral. They carry messages about value, identity, and shared experience. When curated with care, they become sites of storytelling, connection, and exchange. 

In London, global investment firm EQT Group has, for the third year running, worked with Artiq's team to select an emerging artist to create an exhibition for its headquarters. The space, known as the Exhibition Plaza, resembles a gallery, though with more texture and less white cube sterility. For the team and guests, it offers an unexpected encounter with art during the course of their daily life. The artist is paid for the year-long exhibition, and at the end of the period, all works are returned, allowing for future sales and extending the value of the pieces.

Meanwhile, across Italy, Artiq have been collaborating with luxury hospitality group Belmond to curate art collections across many of their properties. Here, art is used as a medium for storytelling, reflecting the local region, the historic character of each hotel, and the brand’s values. Local artists and artisans are commissioned to create works that subtly evoke regional heritage and history, offering guests a quiet but meaningful connection to the place they're visiting. 

This approach isn’t only about access – though access matters – about rethinking what a museum is for. When art is embedded in everyday environments, the assumption that cultural value must be tied to a building, or propped up by institutional prestige, begins to dissolve. In its place, a more flexible model is emerging — one where the idea of a museum is more fluid: a mindset, a platform, a presence that can take many forms, in many places.

We’re not alone in this thinking. The late Noah Davis’s Underground Museum, housed in a series of interconnected storefronts in the Arlington Heights neighbourhood of Los Angeles, was a radical experiment in what a community-centred institution could be, bringing museum-quality art directly to a predominantly African American and Latino working-class audience. Rejecting the confines of four walls entirely, artists like Yinka Ilori are reimagining the city itself as a kind of open-air museum, transforming everyday infrastructure into joyful, participatory environments that often catch unsuspecting passers-by by surprise.

Then there’s Outernet, now London’s most visited tourist attraction, not housed in a gallery or guarded behind glass, but unfolding in high definition just steps from Tottenham Court Road tube station. It points to what a museum might look like in the future: open, immersive, and woven into the everyday rather than set apart from it. Even Instagram, for better or worse, has democratised the curatorial process, turning our feed into a living, if chaotic, museum of its own.

Underlying this shift is a more urgent rethinking of patronage in the arts. For centuries, the arts were supported by monarchs, industrialists, or the state, but these old models are disappearing. In the UK today, artists are leaving the industry not because of a lack of talent, but because it's no longer economically viable to stay. Government funding is dwindling, diversity lags behind other industries, and many creators rely on unstable freelance income or exposure-based opportunities. If the creative economy is to survive, let alone thrive, it needs to rethink how value is defined and sustained.

The modern patronage Artiq is championing is rooted in sustainable funding, ethical collaboration, and fair pay. It's not built by institutions, but by businesses, brands and communities that value the arts as part of everyday life. It's not an abstract goal but a working model: connecting emerging artists with new spaces, new audiences, and new income streams, outside traditional gallery frameworks.  

Just as we must rethink how the arts are funded, we must also rethink where and how they are encountered. Museums are evolving, becoming less fixed and more fluid. Art doesn’t need to be confined to a palace to have value. It can exist in lobbies, libraries, retail environments, streetscapes, or digital platforms. And when it does, it becomes more democratic, more accessible, more alive. 

This isn’t about replacing museums. It’s about expanding the idea of what a museum can be. A museum today can be a platform, a network, or a moment of public connection. And patronage, once the preserve of the elite, can now be a tool for inclusive, sustainable cultural investment. Taken together, these shifts point toward a more open, equitable future for the arts. One where support is shared, spaces are fluid, and culture is no longer confined to marble-clad institutions, but embedded in the world around us.