By Carol Real
Dakis Joannou is not merely a collector; he is a catalyst—a figure who transforms the role of art from the confines of possession to the expansiveness of questioning. Encountering him at Manhattan’s Core Club over coffee, I was struck by the realization that his essence isn’t rooted in his acquisitions or affiliations but in the relentless dialogue he provokes.
Joannou’s presence reverberates through the contemporary art world, materializing most profoundly in the DESTE Foundation for Contemporary Art. Established in 1983, DESTE—“look” in Greek—rejects the static museum model, positioning itself instead as a fertile ground for disruption. It dares us to deconstruct our understanding of art, culture, and even ourselves.
Educated as a civil engineer and architect, Joannou’s career transcends disciplines. From construction to global industries like shipping, aviation, and hospitality, his endeavors have always merged the pragmatic with the poetic. For him, these industries are not silos but points of convergence—where economic machinery fuels creative revolution and imagination drives cultural meaning.
Yet Joannou defies the reductive framework of art as a commodity. He collects not objects but relationships, forging connections that ripple across institutions such as the Guggenheim Museum, Metropolitan Museum of Art, Museum of Modern Art (NYC), Tate, and New Museum. His patronage is less about the accumulation of masterpieces and more about fostering environments where art interrogates, questions, and confronts.
His legacy is not a static archive but an evolving question. He invites us not to admire but to participate—to recognize art as a crucible where the aesthetic becomes the philosophical, the individual becomes the collective, and the present becomes a prelude to what’s next. Art, for Joannou, is neither an object nor possession but a perpetual unfolding—a way to be in the world differently.
The Genesis: Beyond Trophies
Joannou’s relationship with art did not begin as a calculated pursuit of prestige but as an organic evolution of curiosity. He candidly rejects the identity of a “collector,” a term laden with connotations of ego and status. “At the beginning, when I started the DESTE Foundation, there was no collecting,” he explains. “I didn’t start as a collector. It wasn’t about collecting trophies.” This distinction is critical: Joannou did not view art as a means to social capital but as a dialogue, a space for intellectual and emotional exchange.
His acquisition of One Ball Total Equilibrium Tank(Spalding Dr. JK 241 Series), 1985, was not an act of conquest but a step into a deeper engagement with art’s possibilities. Koons’ piece, emblematic of suspended ideals and aspirations, mirrored Joannou’s burgeoning philosophy. “After I got the Equilibrium Tank, I was coming to New York often, acquiring more and more artworks. Suddenly, I realized I had a collection.” This realization was not a declaration of identity but an awakening to the creative potential of a collection as a living, breathing organism.
The foundation’s programs became extensions of this philosophy, with exhibitions and initiatives that challenged the hierarchical structures of the art world. Artists were not commodities but collaborators; their works were not static objects but dynamic dialogues. DESTE itself became a reflection of Joannou’s refusal to treat art as a possession.
Relationships with Artists: Beyond the Transactional
The approach to collecting art stands apart, marked by a departure from convention and predictability. It challenges the stereotype of the traditional collector, often defined by a detached process of expertise and market strategy. Instead, collecting becomes an act deeply intertwined with personal connections. As Joannou explained, “Just because I’m not a collector in the traditional sense of what I thought a collector was doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with that, but I’m just not like that.” This rejection of traditional norms stems from a desire to engage with art critically and culturally rather than as mere historical or aesthetic commodities.
Rather than pursuing pieces to enhance a space, the focus lies on shaping culture through art. This philosophy requires a profound level of engagement with the creators themselves. Joannou states “If you want to buy a great Picasso or a great Monet, you get an expert, find galleries or dealers to help, and secure the most incredible Picasso or Monet for your house. That’s one approach, and it’s fine—but I’m not interested in that. I’m interested in critical history and being part of creating culture, not just recording or depositing it. My idea is really about being actively involved in creating art, you need to meet the artists. You see an image, and it may look fantastic, but then you talk to the artist and find out it’s just decorative. On the other hand, you might see something that doesn’t initially seem great, but after speaking with the artist, you realize there’s something there.” The insight gained from connecting with the artist’s voice, context, and intention reshapes the way a work is perceived, forming a central pillar of this practice.
Building lasting friendships with artists emerges as a natural extension of this approach. These relationships often transcend the boundaries of art, extending to shared meals, deep conversations, and moments of joy. Joannou asserts “We talk about everything not necessarily only about art. Through these conversations, you understand their character and ideas,” This perspective underscores the importance of immersing oneself in their world. Spending time together—whether eating, drinking, or simply enjoying life—offers a window into the artist’s mindset, uncovering the layers of meaning, motivation, and complexity that inform their creations.
Intuition and Emerging Artists: The Human Connection
The collection stands out for its dedication to artists who were either emerging or overlooked when their work was first acquired. This approach, however, is not attributed to mystical intuition or strategic foresight. Instead, it is described as a straightforward, human process. “It’s not about intuition. It’s about meeting an artist, getting along, and thinking you understand what they’re doing,” he explains.
This approach reflects a belief in art as a two-way dialogue rather than a solitary expression. Through direct engagement with artists, he uncovers the underlying themes in their work—their fears, hopes, and philosophies—and aligns his perspective with their creative vision. “From there, you go forward. There’s no magic formula,” he notes, rejecting the idea that collecting is an enigmatic art form.
The act of collecting becomes a way of shaping culture rather than simply reacting to it. A focus on emerging artists highlights a commitment to influencing the cultural landscape, not just preserving it. By championing new voices, the role shifts from passive observer to active participant in the broader cultural dialogue.
Collecting as a Reflection of Society
When I introduced the idea of collecting as a way of engaging with life and society, Joannou’s response was striking in its clarity and intent:
“By being creative in the way you collect and acquire works from people who contribute to culture and move it forward.”
For him, the act of collecting is not about hoarding aesthetically pleasing objects or indulging in artistic technicalities. Instead, it’s about identifying artists who open new paths—those who challenge norms and reinvent the language of art. His sharp dismissal of “academic art,” which he equates to mere technical proficiency, is a testament to his broader philosophy.
Joannou proclaims “I’m not interested in academic art. It’s perfectly ok, but it’s not what I focus on.”
This perspective reflects a collector deeply invested in the disruptive potential of art. By aligning himself with creators who defy convention and redefine the zeitgeist, Joannou positions his collection as an active participant in the cultural narrative, rather than a passive repository of beauty.
A Radical View on Responsibility
The conversation takes a compelling turn when the discussion shifts to the responsibilities of collectors. Many might argue that collectors bear a moral duty to support the artists they champion or to nurture the cultural ecosystems they inhabit. Joannou, however, is unflinchingly self-assured in rejecting this premise:
“I have no responsibility at all. I’m doing what I like and becoming friends with them. I don’t have a responsibility to the artists or the public—only to myself.”
This declaration, provocative as it may sound, reveals a deeply individualistic approach to collecting. For Joannou, the relationships he forms with artists are not transactional or rooted in obligation. Instead, they are personal and organic, grounded in mutual respect and shared curiosity. His disavowal of responsibility could be read as a rejection of the paternalistic tendencies that often creep into the art world, where collectors are cast as benevolent patrons or cultural stewards.
Yet, it would be a mistake to interpret this stance as a lack of engagement. By insisting that his only responsibility is to himself, Joannou underscores the importance of authenticity in his practice. He collects not out of a sense of duty but out of a genuine connection to the works and their creators. In doing so, he inadvertently fulfills a societal role—one of fostering innovation and challenging artistic complacency.
Nomadic Roots: Breaking Free from Institutional Norms
When asked about the nomadic nature of DESTE, the Greek titan’s response illuminated his philosophy:
“The work that we’re doing, the shows we’re doing, it’s all about dialogue, about getting involved with the culture and being relevant,” he explained. DESTE’s evolution reflects this vision–from its beginnings at the House of Cyprus to the dynamic impromptu exhibitions showcasing his collection.
“We started in the mid-80s at the House of Cyprus with some seminal shows curated by Jeffrey Deitch—Cultural Geometry (1988), Artificial Nature (1990), and Post Human (1992). In addition, we had a few shows featuring Greek artists. Then, in the mid-90s, we moved into a small place in Psychico. We had a few shows there but it started becoming a bit institutional” he recounted. The foundation’s journey led to its space in Nea Ionia, where creative collaborations unfolded in an organic, unpredictable manner. “In 2004 we moved into our present space where we organized Monument to Now (2004) during the Athens Olympic Games. We maintained this space where we had these experimental shows—a few friends would gather, Deitch, Massimiliano Gioni, Maurizio Cattelan, Urs Fischer, and others. We would start installing without even knowing what the show was going to be, only finding out later what it all meant…”
Joannou’s disdain for rigid, long-term planning stands in sharp contrast to museum practices. “We don’t plan a show five years ahead. That doesn’t mean it’s not right,” he acknowledged. But his approach liberates him from institutional obligations. “Museums have responsibilities. They have responsibilities. I don’t. So that’s a big difference.”
Greek Identity Meets Global Art
Reflecting on the relationship between DESTE and Greek art, the visionary collector recounted an early criticism he received from a senior Greek artist who chastised him for not including local talent. His response was characteristically forthright: “Who gave me that responsibility?” he recalled asking. To the artist’s silence, Joannou responded, “I’m sorry, but what about your responsibilities? Did anybody impose any on you regarding the kind of work you should create? Just do what you like. You’re an artist—do what you like and let me do what I like.”
Yet Joannou’s engagement with the local art scene is far from dismissive. He has developed innovative programs to provide Greek artists with international exposure, starting with the establishment of the DESTE Prize (1999 – 2017), and following with a collaboration with the New Museum that showcases the work of about 30 artists every three years. This format, he noted, avoids the influence of local curators and fosters fresh perspectives. “Many of these young artists are now working with major galleries internationally, as well as some important galleries in Greece,” he said with evident pride.
DESTE’s approach is perhaps best encapsulated in Joannou’s emphatic declaration: “Three words that are not in our vocabulary are support, sponsor, and responsibility.” These words, laden with implications of obligation, have no place in the foundation’s lexicon. Instead, DESTE functions as a “platform for ideas,” an incubator where concepts evolve organically.
With exhibitions that traverse the globe, DESTE operates on an international scale. However, the foundation’s roots in Greece and its nuanced engagement with Greek cultural identity form a core part of its narrative. When asked how he balances this duality, Joannou’s response was sharp and revealing.
“We’re not into promoting. We’re not Unilever,” he said, laughing. The humor in his remark underscores his aversion to overt branding or commodification of culture. For Joannou, the intersection of Greek identity with global contemporary art isn’t about marketing a national image but fostering authentic dialogues that transcend geographic and cultural boundaries.
His approach is not about promoting a fixed idea of “Greekness” but about allowing the country’s unique position—both geographically and historically—to inform and enrich contemporary conversations. These dialogues often play with the tension between the local and the global, creating spaces where traditional narratives are both honored and interrogated.
Transformative Ideas: Dialogue and Unpredictability
When discussing transformative ideas encountered through DESTE, Joannou avoided grandiose proclamations. “It’s a developing thing,” he said. “Things just happen as you move along.” He highlighted Dream Machines, an exhibition curated by Massimiliano Gioni and Daniel Birnbaum in Hydra in 2023, which Joannou praised for achieving “museum quality” within just forty square meters and featuring 40 artists.
This unpredictability, Joannou explained, is central to DESTE’s DNA. Whether through formal curation or impromptu initiatives, the foundation thrives on the creative energy of dialogue and collaboration. “Sometimes more formally, like Dream Machines… sometimes less formally, like when we had kids come and create with clay during Urs Fischer’s project in Hydra. Whatever it is, things just happen.”
The Timeless Relevance of Physical Art in a Digital World
In an era where the digital realm consumes more of our lives than ever, Joannou remains resolutely tethered to the tangible. When I asked him how physical interaction with art maintains its relevance amidst the pervasive rise of virtual experiences, his response was immediate, almost instinctive—a declaration of allegiance to the sensory and the real.
“I am not into this digital situation at all,” he said, with a tone that brooked no ambiguity. For Joannou, the digital realm, with its pixelated allure and infinite scrolls, holds little substance when it comes to meaningful engagement with art. “Except for the ease of looking at images quickly instead of waiting three weeks for a slide to be sent,” he added, his tone shifting slightly to acknowledge the practical benefits of technology.
But beyond convenience, Joannou sees little to admire in digital mediums as conveyors of artistic truth. His philosophy is anchored in the idea that art’s power lies in its materiality—in its ability to physically occupy space and demand the viewer’s presence. “For me, it should be like a medium, like a paintbrush,” he remarked, underscoring his belief that art, at its core, transcends the limitations of screens and virtual interfaces. For Joannou, the digital should serve as a tool—a mere extension of the creative process, no more significant than a paintbrush or a sculptor’s chisel.
Hydra: A Laboratory for Creativity
Perhaps DESTE’s most evocative project is its transformation of a former slaughterhouse on the island of Hydra into a venue for groundbreaking exhibitions featuring the work of Mathew Barney, Elizabeth Peyton, Kiki Smith, Kara Walker, Roberto Cuoghi, Doug Aitken, and Maurizio Cattelan. This setting, Joannou explained, influences the narratives told through the art presented there.
When I asked him to reflect on the significance of the Hydra project, his response unfolded as an intricate narrative—not just with anecdotes about the different exhibitions, but about the very essence of artistic creation. “You see,” he began, leaning into the Hydra story with a casual authority, “the Hydra concept is not about inviting an artist and giving them a big budget. That’s too easy. It’s about challenging them. So I thought, ‘Why not try it with a restrained budget?’ It’s not a commission—it’s an opportunity to truly invent.”
Joannou’s anecdotes drifted seamlessly from Hydra’s genesis to its more mythic moments. He recalled his reluctant invitation to Jeff Koons, a longtime friend and collaborator. “Jeff never asked me to do Hydra, and I never asked him. But one day over lunch in New York, he said, ‘I’ll do it, even with a limited budget.’ He somehow found the resources to do this extraordinary show without affecting our budget. He even had all my colleagues sign non-disclosure agreements to ensure I wouldn’t see anything beforehand. The first time I saw it—two hours before the opening—we walked in together. It was just amazing. He wanted to give me the luxury of the first impression and replicate the feeling I had when I first encountered the Equilibrium Tank.”
The Mad and the Lonely, George Condo’s groundbreaking exhibition last summer, followed a massive success, drawing visitors from around the globe to Hydra.
The shift to George Condo’s project was almost imperceptible, yet when it came, it was clear this was a different story altogether. “With George,” Joannou explained, “when I asked him to do Hydra, he responded, ‘Who needs another George Condo show, Dakis?’ ‘Nobody’, I replied. So he was challenged to do this incredibly unique George Condo show.”
When Joannou described the exhibition’s culmination, his voice carried the weight of admiration and awe.
Hydra, now a pilgrimage site for contemporary art, encapsulates the tension between exclusivity and accessibility. Joannou rejected the notion that DESTE’s events are elitist. “Hydra is very open. It’s exactly the opposite. I mean, our events are open, and we only send invitations to some of our foreign friends. The Greek people know they can just drop in,” he explained.
Photo: George Skordaras
Legacy Beyond Possessions
“I don’t see my legacy as a collector,” he stated early in our conversation, cutting through the traditional narratives often associated with art collectors. For him, the act of collecting is secondary to a much larger ambition. He explains, “I see the legacy of the foundation’s work to contribute whatever we could to culture. That’s what I consider my legacy.”
This statement encapsulates his ethos. Joannou’s focus is not on the mere accumulation of objects but on the influence and conversations those objects spark as well as the exhibitions they generate—. DESTE, his foundation, has served as a vehicle for this mission.
A New Landscape of Collecting
Joannou began with a heavy sigh when the topic of the future of collecting arose. It was clear this was not a subject he approached lightly. “That’s a tough question, really,” he said, his words deliberate, measured. His voice carried a note of resignation as if grappling with the weight of a shifting cultural landscape. Joannou, ever the thoughtful observer, articulated the challenges he sees in today’s collecting.
“Some people are starting to get serious about it,” he acknowledged, “but most of them are just focused on what’s more fashionable, what’s the best out there, or what might go up in price. I can’t deal with all that. It’s completely different now.”
Here, his frustration with the commodification of art became evident. Joannou lamented not merely the prioritization of monetary value but the erosion of something deeper—a sense of connection, purpose, and dialogue. Once a richly immersive experience, the act of collecting has for him devolved into a market-driven game.
Joannou harkened to a different era, one that he feels has vanished. “The old style of collecting feel is gone.” His tone, though reflective, hinted at a profound sense of loss. The people he mentioned evoked a golden age of collecting, where relationships and shared passions underpinned the entire endeavor. “It’s difficult for me to have a conversation with a collector nowadays,” he admitted. “Before, I couldn’t wait to meet with fellow collector friends and have fun. Of course, we would talk about art, but we’d talk about a thousand other things too. Everything was connected.”
It became clear that for Joannou, collecting is neither a strategy nor a choreographed dance through the cultural marketplace. It is, at its core, an act of profound engagement with life itself.
When I asked him what advice he might offer to emerging collectors eager to contribute meaningfully to the art world while remaining authentic to their personal vision, Joannou responded with the kind of clarity that only decades of deep experience can yield. “I always say there are two or three things: go with your heart, and your mind, and be engaged. That’s all you have to do.”
End Reflections
Dakis Joannou embodies a paradox that resonates deeply with the nature of art itself: the tension between accumulation and generosity, between the collector and the creator. As he navigates the intricate dance of patronage, one senses a philosophical undercurrent—an acknowledgment that the act of collecting is not merely about possessing objects but about weaving together narratives, connections, and provocations.
Art, in Joannou’s world, is not static, it is alive, pulsating with the tensions of the contemporary world. It reflects our fragmented realities, our desires, our fears, and above all, our contradictions. He challenges us to consider: What does it mean to own art? Can art ever truly belong to someone? Or is the collector merely a custodian of an ephemeral moment, a fleeting dialogue between the artist, the work, and the world?
There’s an existential weight to his philosophy. Joannou does not collect for the sake of permanence; he collects for the sake of impermanence—for the disruption, for the discomfort, for the fleeting possibility that art might, even momentarily, crack open the shell of our certainty and let the chaos of the real seep through.
As he speaks of his projects, one cannot help but see a mirror held up to our own lives. His collection becomes a metaphor for existence itself—a chaotic, beautiful, and unresolvable tapestry of meanings. In the end, Joannou does not offer answers, and perhaps that is his greatest gift. He reminds us that art, much like life, is not about resolution but about exploration. It is about asking the questions that unsettle us, that challenge the systems we inhabit, and invite us, always, to see anew.
Isn’t this the ultimate role of art—and perhaps of those who dare to collect it? To remind us that we, too, are works in progress, always incomplete, always becoming.
Interview conducted in New York City on November 19, 2024.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.
All images are courtesy of Dakis Joannou and the DESTE Foundation.
Special thanks to Regina Alivisatos.