The Biggest Lie in the Art World: Price Doesn’t Equal Value. Why a $200 million painting doesn’t mean your art—or the art you love—is worth any less.
Here’s something wild: in 2021, a partially shredded Banksy painting—yes, actually shredded—sold for $25.4 million.
In 2017, a small da Vinci painting sold for $450.3 million, even though many experts weren’t sure he painted the whole thing.
And in 2015, a Picasso sold for $179 million, not because it was his “best work,” but because it was rare, hyped, and in the right auction room at the right time.
These numbers make most people gasp… and they should.
But here’s the truth the art world rarely says out loud:
Big auction prices don’t tell you what “good art” is. They tell you what “big money” wants you to believe.
And that’s exactly why collectors—REAL collectors—need to rethink what value actually means.
The Banksy Shredding Incident (and Why It Blew Up the Market)
In 2018, Banksy pulled off one of the greatest stunts in art history.
His painting Girl With Balloon sold for about $1.4 million at Sotheby’s.
The gavel hit.
Everyone clapped.
And then… the painting shredded itself in front of the entire room.
At first, people thought the value had just tanked.
Wrong.
That shredded painting—renamed Love Is in the Bin—later sold for $25.4 million.
Not because the art changed.
Not because it got “better.”
But because the story exploded.
Collectors weren’t buying a painting.
They were buying a moment.
The $450 Million da Vinci That No One Can Agree On
When Salvator Mundi sold in 2017 for nearly half a billion dollars, it shocked the world.
Why?
Some experts said it wasn’t 100% painted by da Vinci.
Some pointed out the restoration was heavy-handed.
Some said it was “too good to be true.”
But none of that mattered.
What mattered was that it was possibly a da Vinci.
And that tiny “maybe” was worth hundreds of millions.
That’s not art.
That’s myth-making.
The $179 Million Picasso: A Perfect Storm
Picasso’s Les Femmes d’Alger (Version O) sold in 2015 for $179.4 million.
Not because it was his most beautiful work.
Not because it was his most important work.
And definitely not because it was the most loved.
It sold that high because:
It was part of a famous series
It hadn’t been on the market in years
Collectors wanted this one
A bidding war broke out
The press showed up
The buzz took over
It was a lightning strike, not a formula.
So… what’s actually going on here?
You’d think price = quality.
But in the real art world, price = a cocktail of things like:
scarcity
hype
timing
famous owners
media attention
cultural story
the “brand” of the artist
and sometimes… pure spectacle
None of this reflects the emotional value of art.
None of this tells you if a piece will change your life when you see it every day.
None of this tells you if the artist poured their whole world into the work.
And here’s where the REAL truth comes in:
The art hanging in your home, the art you connect to, the art that speaks to your story—that art is valuable in a way the auction house can’t measure.
Collectors who buy from living artists aren’t just buying a product.
They’re buying meaning.
They’re buying soul.
They’re buying a relationship with the artist.
They’re buying into the future.
Auction houses chase headlines.
Collectors chase connection.
If the ultra-wealthy can spend $200 million on a feeling… so can you.
Not $200 million, obviously.
But the principle is the same:
People buy art because it moves them.
Because it reminds them of something.
Because it says what they can’t say.
Because it feels like home.
That’s the real value.
And you don’t need Sotheby’s to tell you what that is.
So here’s the message for collectors, new and seasoned:
Trust your taste.
Buy what pulls you in, even if it’s from an emerging artist.
Trust your connection.
If a piece makes you feel something, that’s value.
Trust your story.
Your home should reflect your life, not someone else’s price list.
And remember:
Some of the world’s greatest artists were ignored until the right moment—sometimes long after they were gone.
You might be collecting someone whose talent hasn’t been “discovered” yet.
And that’s the beauty of it.
Art has always belonged to the people who love it—not the people who price it.
And that’s the truth worth holding onto.