Domino Effect

May 16, 2025


In the art world, timing can feel like everything. An artist might spend years—sometimes decades—working quietly, developing a deep and resonant body of work, showing in smaller spaces, earning a modest but steady trickle of attention. There are whispers, nods, slow-building curiosity. And then, one day, something shifts. A well-respected collector finally buys in, and suddenly, it’s as if the dam breaks.

This is what people often call the “domino effect.” But it’s not that the artist has changed. The work hasn’t undergone some sudden transformation. What changes is perception. One thoughtful acquisition from the right person—a tastemaker, a trusted gallerist, a museum curator—can send a signal that others have been waiting for. And just like that, momentum begins.

Those quiet years, the ones where it felt like no one was watching, were never wasted. In fact, they were foundational. During that time, the artist was building—sometimes in obscurity, sometimes with just a few eyes quietly watching from afar. Collectors and curators often observe silently for years, intrigued but hesitant, waiting for some invisible threshold to be crossed. They know the quality is there, but the market isn’t always brave enough to move first.

Then, one person does.

And that first move changes everything. “Did you hear so-and-so bought a piece?” It spreads like a spark catching dry grass. Collectors who’d been sitting on the fence now feel a pang of urgency. Nobody wants to be the one who hesitated just before the rise. That first domino falling reframes the entire narrative: this isn’t just an artist doing good work—this is someone whose time has come.

What follows is momentum. A few more collectors jump in. A gallery steps forward. Museums begin to take interest. Waiting lists start to form. Prices climb. Each decision builds on the last, creating a kind of chain reaction. What was once a slow burn suddenly feels like a surge. And while it might look like an overnight success from the outside, everyone close to it knows better: this has been years in the making.

Part of what drives this rush is something deeply human—fear of missing out. In a world increasingly shaped by immediacy and visibility, no one wants to be the last to see what was right in front of them all along. People want to be part of the story, not just observers of it. They want to own a piece of the ascent.

But the truth is, the domino effect doesn’t make the work more meaningful. It simply validates a value that was already there—quiet, consistent, waiting to be seen.

For the artist, the moment can feel both thrilling and surreal. After so much time creating in the margins, suddenly the spotlight is blinding. But the real strength lies in what came before—the years of building, experimenting, persevering without guarantees.

The trick isn’t to chase the dominoes. It’s to keep doing the work with the same integrity and patience that made it worth noticing in the first place. Because when the moment comes—and it will—it’s not about luck. It’s about being ready.