At the dawn of the 21st century, the art world is undergoing a profound transformation, shaped by the rapidly evolving forces of capitalism, technological revolutions, and globalization. This transformation is not merely a sign of the times but a seismic shift that shakes the very foundation upon which art exists. As capitalism increasingly dominates the art ecosystem, the notion of "fine art" finds itself in an ever more precarious and ambiguous position. Can art produced and consumed within the capitalist system still be called pure? Or has the very concept of fine art always been a modern illusion?

This question is not simply philosophical. It speaks directly to the survival of countless artists working across the globe, and to the systems of education, institutions, and markets that shape the field of art today. It is a practical and urgent concern that demands both critical reflection and strategic action.



Art and Capitalism: Coexistence or Crisis?

Art has never been separate from the historical conditions of its time. During the Renaissance, artists worked under the patronage of the Church and the nobility. In the 19th century, Impressionists sought survival within the newly emerging bourgeois art market. Even at the height of modernism in the 20th century—often celebrated as the pinnacle of artistic freedom—the art market and gallery systems in New York were underpinned by immense financial power.

And yet, artists and theorists alike have long defended the idea of "fine art"—a realm of creation that transcends utility and exchange value, embodying the autonomy and independence of the human spirit. Today, however, that ideal is facing a serious crisis. In South Korea alone, nearly 100 art fairs are held each year, and countless artists struggle to survive without selling their work. In a harsh reality where “an artist who doesn’t sell isn’t an artist,” can we still speak meaningfully of pure artistic creation?



Fine Art: A Delusion or a Possibility for Resistance?

Some take a cynical view, arguing that fine art was always a bourgeois fantasy, cloaked in the ideals of autonomy and independence but ultimately shaped by the logic of the market. Yet this critique only captures half the truth. While fine art may never have existed in a space completely untouched by capital, it has consistently strived to maintain a distance from market logic—a space of resistance, however fragile.

In this sense, fine art is not a realized concept but a continuous movement toward realization. It represents not a fantasy, but a direction—an ongoing effort to preserve the human spirit amidst the tides of capitalism and technological change.



Capitalism and the Crisis of the Art Ecosystem

On the surface, the Korean art scene has never appeared more vibrant. Galleries, art fairs, museums, public funding programs, and international exhibitions are flourishing. Young Korean artists are gaining global attention. Yet beneath this surface, many artists remain trapped between the need to sell and the need to survive. Artistic diversity and experimentation are gradually being eroded.

The market-oriented structure demands quick results, favoring only what is "sellable." As a result, art’s invisible values—slow and internal exploration, the importance of failure and experimentation—are being pushed aside. Fine art, in turn, is slowly losing its place.

The survival of fine art, then, is not just a structural question but also one of individual practice. To say that fine art “survives” does not mean it thrives in the market; it means that it continues as a meaningful human act. The real question is whether such an act is still sustainable.



So, how do we respond?

First, individual artists must adopt new strategies. Artists today must go beyond being mere creators; they must become autonomous agents and strategists. They must constantly consider the context and discourse surrounding their work and seek to expand their field through activities beyond creation—writing, archiving, dialogue, and building platforms.

Second, institutional support must genuinely embrace diversity. Experimental work, non-commercial art, and socially engaged practices should be given space and visibility. Both public and private sectors must work in balance to support this, with more structured efforts from public museums, non-profit spaces, and residency programs.

Third, education and criticism must be revitalized. To ensure that art is seen not only as a commodity but also as an object of thought, our ways of seeing must change. This requires greater efforts in education, critical interpretation, and philosophical engagement—made possible through active discourse in media, institutions, and pedagogy.


Art is in crisis. But perhaps it is in crisis that true art begins again. If we sincerely ask ourselves, “What do I want to paint?”, “Why do I want to create?”, “What do I want to leave behind in this world?”, then fine art is not dead—and will endure.

In an age when everything is commodified and AI can mimic the surface of creativity, it is precisely the slow, inefficient, and irrational act of human creation that remains the most radical—and the purest—form of art. Creating gaps within the structures of capital, holding on to the human amidst the tide of technology, and continuing to pose questions with no clear answers—these are the very forms and spirit of fine art that we must strive to protect.


*Reification originates from the Latin res (thing) and denotes the process by which immaterial, fluid aspects of human life—such as interpersonal relations, actions, and modes of thought—are transformed into static, object-like entities.

In History and Class Consciousness, Georg Lukács identifies reification as a central pathology of capitalist society. He contends that under the logic of capitalism, workers come to perceive all dimensions of life—including their own being—exclusively in terms of exchange value. Through this process, human subjectivity is eroded, and individuals themselves are reduced to objects, rendered as commodities.

Theodor Adorno, a leading figure of the Frankfurt School, expands this critique in his analysis of the culture industry. He argues that even human emotion, art, and imagination are subsumed under the logic of commodification and standardization. As a result, autonomy and critical consciousness are diminished, and all experience is rendered into reified, preconfigured forms. 

Jay Jongho Kim graduated from the Department of Art Theory at Hongik University and earned his master's degree in Art Planning from the same university. From 1996 to 2006, he worked as a curator at Gallery Seomi, planning director at CAIS Gallery, head of the curatorial research team at Art Center Nabi, director at Gallery Hyundai, and curator at Gana New York. From 2008 to 2017, he served as the executive director of Doosan Gallery Seoul & New York and Doosan Residency New York, introducing Korean contemporary artists to the local scene in New York. After returning to Korea in 2017, he worked as an art consultant, conducting art education, collection consulting, and various art projects. In 2021, he founded A Project Company and is currently running the platforms K-ARTNOW.COM and K-ARTIST.COM, which aim to promote Korean contemporary art on the global stage.