For most of modern history, critics and curators set the tone. Clement Greenberg’s essays elevated Abstract Expressionism in the 1950s; curators like Harald Szeemann redefined the boundaries of contemporary art with radical exhibitions. Collectors, meanwhile, gave these movements staying power. When Peggy Guggenheim invested in Jackson Pollock, she wasn’t just buying paintings, she was validating a whole movement.


Even now, these figures still matter. A major show at MoMA or the Tate remains career-defining. A rave review in Artforum can tip the scales for a mid-career painter and collectors can still have significant influence.
However, the hierarchy is shifting. Today, Instagram likes and TikTok shares can launch an artist faster than a critic’s essay. Consider the case of Amoako Boafo, the Ghanaian painter whose career skyrocketed after his portraits went viral on Instagram. Within a year, he was showing at Art Basel Miami Beach and selling his works at six-figure prices at auction.

Algorithms aren’t just amplifying taste; they’re shaping it. The Instagram explore page or an Artsy recommendation feed is effectively a curator, one that personalises the “exhibition” for each viewer. The more you click, the more the algorithm decides what you want to see. It’s taste-making by machine, optimised for engagement rather than scholarship.
This comes with risks. Algorithms favour the eye-catching and shareable: bright colours, figurative work, styles that look good on a phone screen. More challenging, conceptually dense practices often get sidelined. In other words, digital gatekeepers reward art that photographs well, not necessarily art that endures.

On the optimistic side, the internet has opened doors. Artists can bypass traditional gatekeepers and find audiences directly. Collectors can discover talent outside New York, London, or Hong Kong. Communities of fans can rally around overlooked artists, amplifying voices that once would have been silenced.
Yet the playing field isn’t entirely level. Digital visibility is still tied to resources: the ability to produce slick content, run targeted ads, or hire PR teams. Just as collectors once dominated the gallery scene, influencers now dominate the algorithmic one. In both cases, power tends to consolidate at the top.

The truth is that no single group - critics, curators, collectors, algorithms - have complete control anymore. Instead, they form an ecosystem of influence, sometimes in harmony, often in conflict.
An artist might first catch attention on Instagram, be validated by a collector at a fair, land a museum show thanks to a curator, and have the whole story wrapped up by a critic. Each step reinforces the other, but the order is no longer fixed.

Perhaps the most exciting aspect of today’s art world is its unpredictability. Taste is no longer dictated from the top down; it emerges through a messy, dynamic conversation between human experts, wealthy patrons, global audiences, and even algorithms.
The next great artist may be discovered by a curator leafing through a residency catalogue or by a collector scrolling Instagram at 2 a.m. The arbiters of taste are multiplying, reshaping not only what counts as art, but also who holds the power to decide.