YOUNGSTOWN, Ohio – There is a difference between owning art and collecting art.
I learned that distinction during my time in Venice, when I had the opportunity to intern with the Pinault family and study and buy art for the Pinault Collection.
It was one of the most formative experiences of my career.
I was surrounded by an extraordinary collection, but what interested me most was not simply the art itself. It was the thinking behind it. I began to understand that the world’s great collectors don’t just acquire objects. They develop a point of view. They spend years looking, studying, questioning and learning to recognize something before everyone else sees its significance.
That is the collector’s mindset.
François Pinault is one of the most fascinating examples. His story is unusual because his success in business and his passion for art have developed alongside one another. He began his career in the timber industry in France and built an entrepreneurial empire that would eventually become Kering, one of the world’s leading luxury groups. Today, the Pinault family’s business interests extend across iconic fashion houses including Gucci, Saint Laurent, Bottega Veneta and Balenciaga. Through Artémis, the family’s investment company, they also control Christie’s, the world’s oldest major auction house.
It is an extraordinary intersection of business, fashion, art and culture. And it makes the Pinault approach to collecting particularly interesting to me.
François Pinault began collecting art in the early 1970s, initially focusing on artists such as Paul Sérusier before expanding into modern and contemporary art. His collection now includes approximately 10,000 works across painting, sculpture, photography, video, installation and performance.
But the collection’s influence isn’t measured by its size. It is measured by its vision.
I saw that firsthand in Venice.
The Pinault Collection’s presence there is woven into the fabric of the city. Palazzo Grassi and Punta della Dogana became extraordinary homes for contemporary art, bringing together historic Venetian architecture and some of the most important artists of our time. Later, the Bourse de Commerce in Paris became another public home for the collection.
What struck me was the transformation from private collector to public steward.
The art that might have once been experienced privately is now encountered by people from around the world. The collection has become a cultural destination, a place for exhibitions, scholarship, conversation and discovery.
That transformation is one of the great powers of collecting. The Medici family understood this centuries ago. Their patronage helped shape Renaissance Florence and supported artists whose work would become central to Western art history. In a very different era, collectors such as Eli and Edythe Broad similarly demonstrated how a personal passion for collecting could evolve into a public institution, creating The Broad in Los Angeles and sharing their collection with an international audience.
Collectors can influence what the world sees.
They can also influence what the world values.
When a collector takes a chance on an artist, that decision can have a ripple effect. Galleries take notice. Other collectors become interested. Museums begin to pay attention. An artist’s work may enter more collections, more exhibitions and eventually the broader history of art.
During my time in Venice, I had the opportunity to observe that process more closely than I ever could have from the outside. I saw how much thought goes into building a collection and how personal those decisions can be.
The best collections aren’t assembled by buying the most expensive or recognizable names. They are built with intention. There is a conversation between the work and a reason one artist belongs beside another. Over time, those choices create a narrative.
That experience has remained with me throughout my career.
Today, as the executive director of the Medici Museum of Art, I think about collecting from a different perspective. I am no longer simply observing how a major private collection is built. I am thinking about what it means for a museum to preserve art for a community and for future generations.
Every collection begins with a decision.
Someone has to believe that an artist, an object or an idea is worth saving.
That is why I believe collecting is ultimately an act of vision – and, in many ways, an act of responsibility.
The world’s great collectors have shown us that a private passion can have a very public impact. A collection can influence markets, shape museums and introduce generations of people to artists they might otherwise never encounter.
Perhaps that is what I took away most from my time in Venice. The collector’s mindset is not simply about knowing what you want to own.
It is about learning how to see.
To recognize potential. To trust your instincts. To understand that something overlooked today may become significant tomorrow.
And ultimately, to know that what we choose to preserve says something about who we are – and what we believe deserves to be remembered.
