The problem and the promise of bitcoin stems from the same place: the currency is volatile and inherently unpredictable; its value is dictated by how much people want it. The ups and downs of the bitcoin market can be a deterrent for the casually curious, and an obstacle for those who want to level up to novice investors. How is it possible to feel safe buying bitcoin when market trend watchers point to the up and down of the markets as proof of the dwindling allure of the currency? Sludging through the technical terms—a total headache. But, if we think of bitcoin like we think of a sneaker accruing value on the resale market (like the Apple Inc. Omega sports Apple Computer sneaker, designed as a free giveaway gift at a National Sales conference in the 1990s, now worth $50K) or the resale value of tickets to Beyoncé’s Renaissance tour, or, any piece of art, its unpredictability begins to make sense.

Steven Montinar, a 24-year-old New York–based mixed-media artist, has been working as a client liaison for Sotheby’s since 2022, where part of his expertise is used to assess how art is deemed valuable, and how it finds relevance in society; but he was personally familiar with the process, from the art side of things, long before he started this job. In 2020, Montinar’s work, “Koupe Tet, Boule Kay,” was acquired by the Whitney Museum of American Art. While, at the time, there was controversy around the acquisition process (more on that later), Montinar is enough of an expert to understand why, and why it was bigger than the price tag. BREAD asked Montinar to walk us through the acquisition of his own work, as a way to understand bitcoin, by understanding the eternally in-flux currencies of the art world.

Let’s begin in the most obvious place: How do you define value?

Coming into art, I had two revelations. The first one was informed by concept and the second was in the form of model. In that primary perspective of an art life, the concept changes the art’s relevance. The way we manipulate, hold, and share our practice changes how the art interacts with the world. So with art, it’s seen as a monetary unit alongside it being an external representation of yourself. As well as a hobby. As well as an emotional release or a coping mechanism. Art can exist as a trend, as a monument, as money, but it’s all these things wrapped into one.

For me, value comes down to motive. And my motive with my artwork has always been visibility. Or maybe the better word is accessibility. My value in my practice comes through accessibility. Who does it reach? How did they reach it? How much access did they have to it? In a larger sense, accessibility is also how art retains value. It all depends on what aspect of the audience you are using to create value.

But what about the opposite of that, which is scarcity? You live in New York City where fashion is life. Everything from vintage designer clothing to sneakers sway in worth depending on availability.

How much of a factor is scarcity in determining the value of a given artwork or product?

At the end of the day, art is an experience. It is an individual experience no matter how massive an audience it gets. If you can only experience a body of work by purchasing it, holding on to it, or showing up to an exhibition, those fleeting moments of exchange become imperative to its value. At the Met and MoMA, for example, I have a collection of writings that are specifically in the special collections library. The purpose of the library is to collect these written works and preserve them. And it’s not just books, but pamphlets, newspapers, flyers, and articles. They are things that are paraphernalia in the present but artifacts over time. So there’s a scarcity not because it’s not in demand, but a scarcity of who wants to archive, who wants to preserve it.

That same line of thinking applies to collectors. If someone walks into an auction house and they like the work, and are willing to spend, then they are also saying I’m buying this to archive. Archiving is the thing that works against scarcity but also works with scarcity. Who is archiving it correctly to extend time to create legacy? Scarcity becomes really important to value. The work never depreciates, it just doesn’t exist anymore. An artwork that is ruined doesn’t necessarily lose its value. Bansky, at Sotheby’s London in 2018, shredded one of his pieces in auction. It sold for $1.4 million. And that raised a ton in value because it’s the only one that exists that way. [Titled “Love Is in the Bin,” the painting was resold by the anonymous collector in 2021 for $25 million, a new record for the artist.] Scarcity drives demand as well. It drives a demand in the audience, an interest in a specific audience, or it can change the audience that becomes interested in it. Now it’s a collector’s item or a special edition.

“BANSKY, AT SOTHEBY’S LONDON IN 2018, SHREDDED ONE OF HIS PIECES IN AUCTION. IT SOLD FOR $1.4 MILLION. AND THAT RAISED A TON IN VALUE BECAUSE IT’S THE ONLY ONE THAT EXISTS THAT WAY.”

All art is born into the world at a specific point in time. How does its social value factor into its overall commercial value?

So what we’re talking about is the time period. How important was that work in that specific time, and how does that importance or value translate outside that era? The Bauhaus movement and Dadaism are the first things that come to mind, especially when it comes to artistic design practices. Dadaism was specifically anti-art but over time it became high-value artwork. It is the exact opposite of what was supposed to happen in its present time. Social value parallels this current. During specific cultural movements or world events certain work becomes more prominent, and more valuable, because of the larger audience. This happens at galleries a lot.

How so?

At the height of a movement, they start collecting certain artists. During the Black Lives Matter movement, there was a resurgence in wanting Black artists. After that, there was the Stop Asian Hate movement, and the art world shifted to more Asian artists. Right now, the social value of artwork exists in this overlap of current trauma and future legacy. It’s all about, how important will we deem that aspect in time?

The secondary market truly tells you what the world wants because the secondary market is run by the public. The primary market is based on a gallerist’s interests—I like this, it resonates with me. It all starts with their interests. The secondary market is based on who is buying what and why they are buying it.

Have you experienced that with your work?

My first major acquisition was by the Whitney for “Koupe Tet, Boule Kay,” which I made during the Covid-19 pandemic in March 2020. The reason that artwork became more visible was, one, the pandemic helped the art world develop into a virtual space. People who would not normally be looking at other people are now looking at these people through social media and online interventions. On top of that, trends in the art market are very real. I’m a Black artist making work about the Black experience, specifically my own Black experience. The environment [art exists in] can recontextualize a work. So in the space of me existing as a Black body online making art that represents my feelings about situations happening, like the Black Lives Matter movement, people start spreading your message.

I made “Koupe Tet, Boule Kay” before I knew where it was going to go. I needed a project where I could take time, concentrate, and block out some of the world. I gave it to Printed Matter, [an independent publishing nonprofit dedicated to artists.] They were doing a free downloadable archive for Black Lives Matter protesters. I originally put that into the world as a free tool to go out and protest. The Whitney got a hold of it. At first I thought it was spam. But them having my work created a very interesting reaction to my practice. Now I had backing, which brings us into the world of money, with bitcoin, where things have to get backed. In the art world, you’re always backed by an audience. Being backed by an institution holds a lot of weight, and you can use that weight to raise the prices of your work, or to raise your exposure in the art market or to find new opportunities to further grow. And that’s what was happening.

But then things stopped short. With that show at the Whitney, of all the works they acquired, I was the only one they told, to my knowledge. The rest of the work they just took from this virtual space. Initially the piece was acquired for free since the Whitney was collecting freely circulating materials. After the backlash, the museum gave each artist $1,500. It became an issue. How do you navigate the virtual art market? What is a picture? Is a picture the original—if the picture’s original—if you obtained that image? Do you own the original?

Technology has certainly changed how art is created, but also how we allocate value. Digital art can now be sold as NFTs. In 2021, an artwork by Beeple, which exists only as a digital file, sold for $69 million at an auction through Christie’s. How will the relationship digital art has to the marketplace evolve in the years ahead?

Anything that becomes popular or relevant all comes down to how you package it. It’s the same with social media. Every couple of years there is a new platform but it’s the same thing as before. The issue with NFTs, and digital currencies similar in nature is that I personally believe they are packaged wrong. It’s packaged wrong because it’s hard to understand. For someone who doesn’t mind learning all about bitcoin, about the different forms of it, its value and how its value shifts, there’s no problem. But most people are not like that. It’s all packaged wrong. The evolution of our visual art is further understanding its digital packaging.

As an artist, your work is all about recontextualization and infusing an object with new meaning. In the future, will the way value is assigned change? Will its packaging look different?

With currency, with value, with art, and the future value of products, the idea of simplifying the packaging of value becomes more important. With bitcoin, the value becomes harder for people to understand. The idea of a decimal point of value throws people off. It becomes confusing. The unsimplified visual of it makes you not want to understand it. There is all this context people miss because it is not packaged for them. It takes a certain audience to want to sit and ingest all this information.

It doesn’t take a special person to understand this, but the better you package it, the larger the audience. In comedy, the same jokes are reused all the time, but there is a difference in delivery and a difference in packaging that makes people more understanding or susceptible to receiving the message.