Olga Ferrères on redefining the Art market: from nomadic galleries to art Stand-Up

Olga Ferrères is an art advisor, dealer, historian, curator, and cultural strategist whose career bridges continents and disciplines. Based in Singapore, she is the founder of VOLOO — a nomadic art advisory and pop-up gallery that connects Eastern European voices with the Asian art market. Through her exhibitions, Ferrères creates encounters that move beyond commerce, offering intellectual and emotional dialogues between traditions, geographies, and audiences. From presenting bold figurative works at Art Central Hong Kong to introducing Asian collectors to the depth of European practices, her work consistently expands the cultural vocabulary of the art world.

-You describe VOLOO as a “nomadic art advisory and pop-up gallery.” What inspired you to break away from the traditional gallery model?
-In today's evolving art market, the traditional gallery model faces real challenges, especially for self-financed entities. The recent Art Basel & UBS report shows a clear decline in global sales, and on social media we see major galleries closing or skipping fairs they previously attended regularly. Artsy also highlighted that this year 43% of galleries plan to focus more on online sales.

Given these market dynamics, VOLOO's model—direct, trust-driven relationships, pop-up curation, and collaborations—is both timely and resilient. It allows us to curate projects that are uncompromising in vision and foster meaningful connections between East and West.

After all, it’s not the gallery walls that define our work—it’s honesty and transparency in interactions with people. As an art historian with a deep passion for art, I focus on sharing knowledge and building a community of curious, intellectual individuals. I create experiences that educate and connect, rather than simply sell. This includes public talks on art history, the contemporary market, and my recently launched art history stand-up series, which enables direct engagement with collectors and enthusiasts.

Some experiences aren’t in the guidebooks. From private gallery tours in Paris to invitation-only exhibitions in Hong Kong, insider previews at art fairs, and hidden cultural gems across the globe — I make sure I’m everywhere the world’s tastemakers gather. For those who belong, these moments create lasting connections beyond the walls of any gallery.

My goal is to convert curiosity into long-term patronage of art. It’s essential to educate clients on the impact and nobility of supporting contemporary artists, drawing parallels to historical patrons like the Medici or Peggy Guggenheim—they are investing in their lifestyle and ecosystem, not just individual works.

As an art advisory startup, I also explore collaborations with other HNWI service providers, including hedge funds, luxury real estate, and private banking. These meaningful connections ensure that I’m not navigating this landscape alone.

The ongoing generational wealth transfer is further reshaping the market. Many young individuals are reevaluating family collections, seeking guidance on whether to sell, continue, or start anew. I provide honest advice on these opportunities, helping clients preserve existing collections while also creating new ones that reflect their personal values and vision.

-How does your multicultural journey — from Eastern Europe to Asia — shape your curatorial and advisory practice?

-I arrived in Singapore from Moscow. Just imagine the shift: climate, cultural habits, visual codes, artistic language. In this region there is no Botticelli, but there is Francis Newton Souza; no Pollock, but Chinese calligraphy.
I realized that culture offers a key to understanding context and integrating softer into a community.
I earned my degree in art history with a focus on Europe and America, yet I still found it challenging to decipher artists like Natee Utarit or Susan Victor—let alone for someone without that background.

At the same time, studying art history shows how Japanese prints transformed French Impressionism, how Indian Mughal art influenced European Baroque, or how traces of Chinese ink painting appear in Surrealism and Expressionism. Globally art is interconnected, and through it, you see a shared pursuit: beauty, the divine, human choices—between good and evil, fragile and powerful, solitude and opening your heart to other people.

Navigating this personal journey as an expat taught me how crucial it is to translate these connections for others. My curatorial and advisory practice is precisely that: making complex cultural, historical, and visual dialogues accessible. It’s a mastery I deliberately cultivate every day, helping clients engage with art on a deeper, global, and meaningful level.

What shifts do you see in how Asian collectors approach European art, and vice versa?

Asian collectors, particularly younger generations in Hong Kong, Singapore, and Southeast Asia, are increasingly focused on local narratives and emerging Asian artists, while still respecting iconic Western names like Picasso and Basquiat. At the same time, the broader market is moving toward works that reflect identity, social context, and authenticity. The ultra-contemporary segment is currently soft, with market data showing a nearly 30% decline in Asia, while sales in the $1–10 million bracket rose 13.8%.

Collectors in Singapore are surrounded by public art from major international figures—Eliasson, Gormley, Moore, Shonibare—but also local and regional voices. Government initiatives and corporate sponsorships raise awareness, yet those truly engaged understand the deeper value (if you know, you know); others may pass by an Anthony Craig sculpture on their way to the office without fully appreciating it.

Generally, Asian collectors are digitally savvy, intentional, and community-oriented, valuing provenance, narrative, and meaning. European collectors, while anchored in historical movements, are increasingly curious about contemporary Asian voices.
Across Europe, Asian art is gaining visibility: this summer, I saw Koo Jeong A at LUMA Arles, Ho Tzu Nyen’s video works, Lee Ufan alongside Michelangelo Pistoletto, and Le Pho creating buzz at auction in Toulouse. Tadao Ando’s architecture in Aux-en-Provence and North Rhine-Westphalia, and Kusama’s upcoming solo show at the Beyeler Foundation, further highlight its growing presence.

Generational shifts are reshaping taste. Younger Asian collectors are stepping back from speculative hype, seeking works with cultural depth, strong provenance, and historical significance.

For example, when we exhibited at Art Central Hong Kong, our neighboring stand featured a South African artist incorporating traditional grass mats into his work. It attracted not just one but multiple collectors from Singapore, showing that thoughtful, culturally rich projects resonate across regions.

There are exceptions for the above mentioned trend, of course—think of the Chinese crypto entrepreneur who purchased the infamous “Comedian” by Maurizio Cattelan—but these are rare outliers.

Art Stand-Up is such an unusual format — combining humor, performance, and art history. Why do you think audiences respond so strongly to it?

Art can feel intimidating. One stands in front of a de Kooning piece and freezes. The fame of the “Black square” makes one question himself. One worries someone else “gets it” better, or that an advisor might mislead them. I wanted to take all that fear away—and leave only the stories that make us laugh and learn.

I can be honest: I love art, and I love a good laugh. It just makes life easier. So I combined both into Art History Stand-Up, a kind of edutainment where restoration disasters, stories of eccentric collectors, and the ironies of the art world meet humor, wit, and insight. One can relax, enjoy, and still walk away with stories that stick—ones to pull out at dinner or a gallery opening.

Whoever’s reading this now: just Google “Fluffy Jesus” and you’ll get the spirit of the show. Later this year I’ll have a big show with a private club in Singapore, and my Instagram followers will see it first. Art is not a temple—one can laugh, cry, and feel completely free inside it.

Your Instagram memes have reached over a million views. What role do you see digital humor playing in democratizing art?

One gallery might tell you they care about “democratizing art.” I doubt it. How can anyone really democratize a Cy Twombly, whose works sell for an average of $1–2 million at auction, and whose appreciation requires years of study? Artworks themselves can’t be accessible to everyone—but understanding the art world can.

I chose the shortest path: humor. I don’t invent the stories I tell through memes—they already exist in the market, in collectors’ absurdities, in restoration disasters, in the ironies of the art world. 

Contemporary art is beautiful, inspiring, and full of hope—but also absurd to the max. And people love to see it. I guess I am more desacralising art.

My Instagram account allows anyone who might feel intimidated by galleries, auctions, or “high art” to join the conversation without fear. Even though I simplify the complexity of the art world, the memes spark curiosity, conversation, and reflection. People for real discuss last couple of weeks in my social media whether there is a man inside Anish Kapoor sculpture in Chicago.

Humor becomes a bridge—making art feel alive, accessible, and a part of everyday life, rather than something locked behind museum glass.