Art with a Designer Label

Long before the language of sponsorship or cultural partnerships existed, the Medici family understood a simple mechanism of power: that influence could be made visible through art. 

Five centuries later, that logic still stands. In an increasingly saturated market, luxury brands are pursuing meaningful ways to break through the noise, an endeavour that has undoubtedly been to the benefit of the art world as a steadily more predictable recipient for brand investment. Often falling under social responsibility programmes, these partnerships promise public good, often giving  artists carte blanche, or helping institutions make projects more accessible.

This can be seen clearly at the upcoming edition of the Venice Biennale where, after a decade of increasing brand presence, Bvlgari has been named as the 61st edition's exclusive partner, with continued support confirmed for the following two editions. If patronage at the Biennale once functioned as a visible endorsement of culture, it now appears enmeshed in the very structures that produce it. 

Laura Burdese, Bvlgari’s deputy CEO, says that its support will go towards ‘contributing to the overall framework of the Biennale’ in an effort to reinforce it ‘as a global platform for artistic experimentation and cultural dialogue’. Alongside this broader assistance, Bvlgari has commissioned Canadian photographer and sculptor Lotus L. Kang to create a site-specific installation for its Pavilion at the Spazio Esedra in the Giardini. Additionally, the Fondazione Bvlgari will stage its first exhibition as an official collateral event of the Biennale, hosted at the Biblioteca Nazionale Marciana, featuring two site-specific installations by Lara Favaretto and Monia Ben Hamouda. 

Bvlgari’s partnership with the Biennale seems almost institutional in nature. “The key lies in balance,” says Burdese, “ensuring that the role of an exclusive partner remains supportive rather than intrusive. This requires discretion, mutual respect and a clear understanding of roles.”

The partnership certainly isn’t the first time that the Venice Biennale has benefited from brand sponsorship. Over the last two decades, Illy, the Italian coffee brand, has cemented itself as a predictable fixture of the event, but its sponsorship has been mostly relegated to hospitality. So, when you need a break from the art in the Giardini, you’ll likely find yourself at the impeccably branded Illy Café, drinking an Illy espresso. UBS and Swatch have been major players within the Biennale eco-system, too.

Away from festival-wide sponsorship, patriotic brands are aligning themselves with national pavilions. Notably, Burberry has been the official partner of the British Pavilion twice, and this year Zegna is set to sponsor the Italian Pavilion. The proliferation of peripheral brand sponsored events also continues, as does the infiltration of brands taking space on Venice's sinking shores, with the Fondazione Dries van Noten having just opened at the Palazzo Pisani Moretta, overlooking the Grand Canal, just in time for the Biennale. 

Lotus L. Kang, portrait. Photo: Carolyne Loreé Teston © Carolyne Loreé Teston

The desire to display proximity to Venice seems to have only intensified in recent years, and Bvlgari’s sponsorship shows how brand patronage is evolving to mimic the support once provided by government. The need for this kind of support is evident. In the UK alone, funding to the arts has been cut by 17 percent since 2017. The lack of funding requires artists and institutions to look elsewhere for support, and increasingly that support is found from major brands.

Róisín McQueirns, founder of Francis Arts & Culture Management and previous global arts and culture manager at Chanel Arts and Culture, attests to this shift. “At the beginning of my time working at commercial galleries I was hesitant to put forward opportunities for brand collaborations, as artists were just less interested, but now you’re far more likely to get a yes.” She speculates that this is due to market changes and financial pressures, mentioning that galleries “simply have less funding to put forward for ambitious, but less commercial projects”.

McQueirns notes that Venice, in particular, is a place where brand sponsorship is becoming more common as artists are more likely to source funding from multiple avenues to realise their projects. “These installations are huge,” McQueirns explains. “And they are kept up from May through November. They require constant checking and maintenance, and there are related events and publications that all require funding. That’s why it’s becoming increasingly beneficial for artists to partner with brands to support them. It offers them freedom to work at great scale, experiment in new ways, and reach huge audiences.”

But while there may be no constraints financially, do the constraints then become ideological?

Luxury brands are notoriously cautious about showing deference to any political agenda, ensuring that their appeal remains truly global. And herein lies the crux of the concern about the proliferation of brand sponsored art projects. If artists and institutions are in any way reliant on brand sponsorship, then the metric for what art that is deemed suitable for financial support narrows drastically.

At an event like the Venice Biennale, a global stage already imbued with the tensions of global politics, it’s easy to see how this requirement for apolitical art work could be interpreted as a move towards the erasure of political art altogether.

So what do these partnerships actually look like? Louise Hayward, partner at Lisson Gallery, gives an insight into the workings of the British Pavilion’s partnership with John Akomfrah in 2024. “There was this incredible first meeting where John shared a little about the film he would be showing at Venice. Immediately, the Burberry team were interested in designing a tote bag inspired by the hues used in the rooms of the Pavilion. Ultimately, I think we really lucked out with that partnership: Burberry is really invested in cross-disciplinary arts and culture, and there was a fantastic synergy.”

John Akomfrah, Listening All Night To The Rain, 2024 (installation, British Pavilion, 60th International Art Exhibition of La Biennale di Venezia). Photo: Jack Hems. Courtesy the artist

When asked whether or not Akomfrah’s project would have looked materially different had Burberry not been involved, Hayward was certain it would not have been. “Absolutely not” she replies “The partnership was very much focused on the production of the tote bag, which was really beautiful and a wonderful way to remember that specific moment.”

What brands get in exchange for supporting projects at the Biennale appears obvious. Thomas Girst, BMW Group’s global head of cultural engagement, frames the logic of cultural sponsorship not as altruism but as visibility infrastructure: “Ultimately, we’re a company. Nothing that we do is done for altruistic or philanthropic reasons. It’s about the image, the reputation and the visibility of the brand.” Where people with luxury interests go, luxury brands follow. “It’s about being where our clients already are,” says Girst,“ having a noticeable presence there that will hopefully create something with meaning that they will enjoy. If we were to emblazon the BMW logo on everything, we would likely put off the same people we were trying to reach. So it’s necessary to be subtle in that way.” 

Academic and brand strategist Vadim Grigoryan believes that these partnerships provide more than just visibility. “The brand experience isn’t just about the product that they sell, it’s about the total cultural experience. Brands need to be seen as cultural agents themselves, or else they risk being degraded to commodities.” Brand involvement, Vadim believes, is net-positive. “It’s a testament to the power of art, and to the sophistication of brands.” The only time he thinks these partnerships are problematic is when brands “expect artists to behave like dancing monkeys”. The antidote to which he believes is ensuring that artists are given both the freedom and the respect that they deserve, although he also notes that this respect “needs to go both ways”.

Olafur Eliasson, BMW Art Car 16, 2007 © Studio Olafur Eliasson and BMW Group

Girst is well familiar with this delicate dance between sponsor and artist. “Whenever you, as a brand, engage in the arts, it’s not about artists singing your song. That would be terrible for the artist, and it wouldn’t be great for you as a company. It’s about providing a platform, especially in the arts, and letting other voices have their moment – or even to get into a dialogue with voices that might be very critical of what it is that you do.”

In 2007, Olafur Eliasson became the sixteenth artist to produce a BMW Art Car. His predecessors include Alexander Calder, Andy Warhol, Roy Lichtenstein, Jeff Koons and David Hockney. Eliasson’s design, the BMW H2R, ran on hydrogen, a nod to the role of carbon emissions and climate change, a seemingly dicey choice for a project sponsored by a carmaker. The New York Times deemed it, ‘the most progressive advertisement BMW has for its corporate push toward sustainability and alternative fuels’. But the partnership with Eliasson wasn’t meant to be an advertisement. “It was never meant to highlight our sustainable future,” says Girst. “It was meant to show that we are interested in dialogue.”

In another example of the manufacturer’s’s commitment to engage in these challenging dialogues, it provided Hungarian artist Hajnal Németh with a BMW 525i, which was then destroyed to be used in her performance piece, Crash: Passive Interview. The image of a wrecked BMW is perhaps the riskiest image a brand could get on board with, but Girst insists that the company is keen to provide artists with whatever they need to make their vision come to life. “Artists have trust in us, and we have trust in them to do the most with what we offer them.”