Art Market
Portrait of Evan Chow in front of Huang Rui, Memory Loss, 1999. Courtesy of Evan Chow.
Installation view of Mika Tajima, Negative Entropy (Kazue Kobata, Blue, Double), 2015. Courtesy of Evan Chow.
A prominent collector and arts patron based in Hong Kong, Evan Chow’s engagement with art started early. Born into the Li family of storied bankers, he grew up surrounded by Chinese ink paintings, antiques, and ceramics. Today, his vast collection of over 500 works is both international and focused, with attention paid to specific movements and disciplines. Throughout his collection, influences from his upbringing are bridged with a distinctly contemporary outlook, featuring works by artists such as Tschabalala Self, Yayoi Kusama, Wolfgang Tillmans, and Jadé Fadojutimi, among others.
“Growing up surrounded by my family’s collection of Chinese works of art and ink paintings gave me an early sense of what it means to live with art and to care for it across generations,” he told Artsy.
Chow’s lineage is closely entwined with Hong Kong’s history. In the early 20th century, the city was a colonial port undergoing rapid transformation—its ferries, trams, and cinemas defining an evolving modern identity. His great-grandfather, Li Tse Fong (1981–1953), co-founded the Bank of East Asia with Li Koon-Chun (1887–1966), his older brother. This laid the foundation for the family legacy not only in banking but also in the Hong Kong government, judiciary, and the Legislative Council.
The Lis are among Hong Kong’s “big four” families, which are the most influential and recognizable for their contributions to business and a range of industries.
Installation view, left: Korakrit Arunanondchai, Painting with History: Naga rivers. The joy of the serpent gods are that once a year they get to embody human forms to come watch an outdoor movie screening. What are their movie selections? Is the reverse of this situation when a human goes to a museum?, 2015; Nick Mauss, F.S. Interval II, 2014; Donna Huanca, Arrythmia, 2017. Courtesy of Evan Chow
Chow aims to continue this legacy, not just through finance, but through culture. Now, his day jobs as managing partner at MCL Financial Group Ltd. and founder and managing director of Chow Enterprise Group (CEG), are supplemented by board positions at several international institutions, including the Hong Kong Arts Centre, New Museum, and the Tate. He’s also a founding patron of M+, Asia’s most visited museum, and in 2023, founded the Evan Chow Art Prize at The Chinese University of Hong Kong, supporting a range of works in the undergraduate and postgraduate exhibitions. “Over time, I began to see that my role could also be contributing to the ecosystem around art,” he said. “Legacy is a big word, and not something I think about often. For me, it is more about being present with art and supporting artists in the moment. If anything carries forward, I hope it is simply that the works continue to be seen, shared, and cared for.”
Chow began collecting art while working in investment banking in the early 2000s. “When I first started, my focus was just on building a collection of art I admire,” he told Artsy. His first acquisition was a print from Chinese artist Zhang Xiaogang’s seminal “Bloodline” series—an accessible starting point, yet a distinctively independent gesture for someone whose family has collected art since the 19th century.
If there’s a throughline in his collection, it is a clarity of focus. “Clarity can be found in simplicity,” he said. “A reminder that strength often comes from patience and persistence, and that even the simplest materials can carry profound weight when treated with care.” Take, for instance, Issu du feu 2b (2000–2001), a charcoal piece by Korean artist Lee Bae, which Chow points to as a reflection of his journey as a collector. “In this sense, the artwork is not just an object, but a quiet motto about resilience, care, and meaning that can last across time,” he explained. Chow also connected Bae’s work to Dao De Jing (The Book of the Way and Its Virtue), an ancient text on Taoism, attributed to the Chinese philosopher and writer Laozi. “His use of charcoal evokes the cycles described in [the book]: life and death, presence and absence, fullness and void,” he noted.
Lee Bae, Issu du feu 2b, 2003. Courtesy of Evan Chow.
Portrait of Evan Chow with (left to right) Tomma Abts, Folme, 2002 and Weet, 2006. Courtesy of Evan Chow.
This focus on clarity perhaps inevitably led to what Chow calls an “affinity for Minimalism.” His holdings include works by legendary artists of the movement, such as geometric abstractionists Bridget Riley and Tomma Abts as well as Donald Judd. “[Judd’s] clarity and discipline, the rigor of his structures, showed me that collecting is not about having more things but about engaging with ideas that can change the way we see space and form,” Chow said. “That way of seeing has always felt close to me, perhaps because of how I naturally look for balance and underlying patterns in the world.”
Minimalism, for Chow, carries an appealing order. “What speaks to me is how it strips away excess to reveal structure, showing the essence beneath complexity,” he said. “It is not about being cold or detached; it is about finding clarity through complexity.” For example, Judd’s Untitled (1991), an anodized aluminum box stripped of its usual glass enclosure, meets the viewer eye to eye, offering an unmediated view of its vibrant interiors—reducing the work to its essential structure and color.
Installation view of Donald Judd, Untitled, 1991. Courtesy of Evan Chow.
Installation view of Huang Rui, Sacrifice & Prelude, 1988. Courtesy of Evan Chow.
Still, Chow leaves room for rupture. Take the works of Hong Kong–based artist Wong Ping, for example, whose practice stretches across animation, sculpture, and immersive installations. A self-taught animator, Ping touches upon deep psychological human conditions in a whimsical, childlike manner.
“Wong Ping speaks to something closer to home,” he said. “His surreal, sometimes absurd storytelling reflects the spirit of Hong Kong today—playful, sharp, and a little uneasy.” Sarah Crowner’s sewn canvases, which also figure prominently in his collection, reflect this. “Her work makes clear that abstraction is never static,” he said. “The way she pieces her compositions together gives abstraction a sense of movement and texture, showing how historical forms can be reimagined to feel alive and contemporary.”
Chow’s collecting journey coincided with Hong Kong’s rapid rise as a global art hub. He became an early presence in the city’s emerging contemporary art scene, notably with ArtHK—an art fair launched in 2008. The fair’s success led to Art Basel’s buyout in 2013, creating Art Basel Hong Kong. This shift—from local fair to global platform—marked a defining moment for the city’s transformation as an art capital. “The art world has become much more dynamic and interconnected over the past decade,” Chow recalled. “In Hong Kong, I’ve noticed a greater diversity of artists and practices, and more platforms where their work can be seen. Collectors here are also engaging with art in more varied ways, not just through acquisitions but also by supporting institutions, programs, and educational initiatives. These shifts have been a reminder to stay open-minded and responsive, rather than relying on fixed formulas.”
Portrait of Evan Chow in front of Sarah Crowner, Turning Violets and Reds, 2021. Courtesy of Evan Chow.
The evolution of Hong Kong’s art landscape and Chow’s direct engagement with it played a significant role in shaping his collecting approach over the years. “My choices are guided less by trends and more by whether a work resonates and by the kind of dialogue it creates with history, with the present moment, or with other voices in the collection,” he said.
His advice to younger collectors is simple: “I’ve found that even small gestures can mean a lot. From my experience, a lot of it is simply about being present, showing up at exhibitions, taking the time to listen to artists, and engaging in what they are doing.” And that is what Chow continues to do today, one gesture at a time.