Craig Follett, CEO of Peggy, hanging abstract geometric painting on white gallery wall
7 min

How Peggy Opens Art to New Generations and Reshapes the Market: Interview with the CEO Craig Follett

By Claudia Bigongiari

Peggy's CEO Craig Follett on how digital authentication and artist royalties are transforming art collecting into an open, liquid market for everyone.

Craig Follett, co-founder and CEO of Peggy, shares the vision behind this innovative art marketplace designed to create a new, inclusive economy where everyone, from first-time collectors to established artists, can participate safely and confidently. Conceived by Follett and Adam Meghji in 2020 and launched as a mobile app in 2023, Peggy directly addresses two fundamental questions that were once surprisingly difficult to answer: where to buy art today and what art is right to collect.

Through patented authentication and innovative Digital Fingerprint technology, Peggy ensures verifiable provenance and automatic artist royalties on every resale, transforming the traditionally closed, intimidating art market into an accessible, liquid ecosystem.

Peggy becomes a trusted tool where artists and institutions can thrive together within a transparent, portable market, everything can be easily made through our phone. It fosters close relationships by directly presenting creators, their stories, and the meanings behind their work, while making buyers feel that purchasing art is just the beginning of a journey - always adaptable over time - not the end of their financial commitment. 

In this interview for WeDirectory, Craig Follett reveals the platform's origin story, its deliberate focus on physical art (starting with painting), and the role Peggy plays in empowering younger generations to enter collecting while giving artists long-term control over their work's value.

Three Peggy team members smiling together seated on wooden couch in modern studio space

Peggy Team: Adam Meghji, Bronwyn Hunter, Craig Follett. Image Courtesy Peggy.

What was the origin story behind Peggy? What was the moment or insight that inspired you to build it?

After I sold my first company, Universe, to Ticketmaster, I bought my first house and immediately wanted to fill the walls with original art. Sounds simple enough. But the question of where to buy and what to collect turned out to be surprisingly difficult to answer, even for someone who'd spent years in tech and live entertainment.

I started visiting art fairs, talking to gallerists, and pretty quickly noticed two structural problems in the market. First, high-net-worth collectors had access to a liquid secondary market through auction houses. They could buy a blue-chip piece and resell it whenever they wanted. Everyday collectors had no equivalent. You bought a painting and you were essentially stuck with it. Second, we kept seeing artists whose work was appreciating dramatically on the secondary market. A piece sold for $10,000, then flipped at auction for hundreds of thousands, and the artist saw none of that upside.

The insight that connected these two problems was authentication. Imagine a world where you could reliably verify a physical artwork using just your smartphone, where AI reads the unique surface characteristics of a painting and creates an unbreakable chain of custody. That would give everyday collectors the same flexibility that ultra-high-net-worth buyers have always had: the ability to buy with confidence and resell when life changes. If you look at adjacent markets, that dynamic already exists. Sneakers have StockX and GOAT. Watches have Chrono24. Fashion has The RealReal and Depop. These are all categories where authentication (albeit without Peggy's patented AI authentication) unlocked a healthy, liquid secondary market that benefits both buyers and creators. We saw no reason emerging and mid-career art shouldn't work the same way. And because we control that chain of custody end to end (with patented intellectual property), we can also ensure artists participate in the upside when their work appreciates. That's the core of what we built.

Abstract geometric red blue painting hung in modern white stairwell with second cityscape artwork below

Image Courtesy Peggy

Where does the name Peggy come from? Was Peggy Guggenheim a direct inspiration - and if so, what about her legacy resonated with your vision?

When we were building the brand, we wanted a name that felt warm and approachable. Like a trusted friend who takes your hand and helps you navigate the art market without judgment. Traditional art spaces can feel intimidating: stark white walls, hushed galleries, "inquire for price" on everything. We didn't want a cold tech moniker. We wanted something human.

The name also ties neatly into the product itself. Users curate their favourite works on "Pegboards," and they can listen to artist interviews through our built-in "Pegcasts." There's a natural linguistic thread running through the whole experience.

And on a personal note, my beloved aunt's nickname growing up was Peggy, so it carries some family resonance too.

Peggy is said to be the only platform that builds artist royalties into resales. Can you tell us more about how that works in practice? How frequently do collectors actually resell through Peggy, and is there genuine demand for it? What tend to be the most common reasons people decide to resell art?

It all starts with our patented Digital Fingerprint technology. When an artwork is listed, the artist uses their smartphone camera to scan the physical piece. Our AI captures the microscopic surface details (the depth of brushstrokes, the texture of the canvas) and creates what is essentially an unbreakable digital chain of custody. When a collector later resells that piece on our secondary market, the new buyer scans it on arrival to confirm it's the exact same work. Because we have end-to-end visibility across that transaction, our system automatically routes a 10% royalty: 5% to the original artist and 5% to the original gallery.

Verisart mobile app showing $620 royalties earned on Plants on a Shelf 2020 artwork

Image Courtesy Peggy

People resell art for practical, everyday reasons: they move to a smaller apartment, their taste evolves, they run out of wall space, or they want to free up capital to support a different emerging artist. These are perfectly normal life events. And what we've found is that knowing this option exists actually makes people more willing to collect in the first place. The ability to resell removes the financial anxiety of that initial purchase. You're not locked in forever. That liquidity changes the entire psychology of buying art.

Peggy offers a range of technology features for artists and collectors. Which ones do you feel make the biggest difference in people's day-to-day experience? Do you have any tools to help artists with pricing - since setting the right price is something so many artists genuinely struggle with?

The feature I'd highlight isn't really about technology. It's about connection. Pegcasts are short-form audio interviews embedded in the app where you hear directly from the artist about the meaning behind their work, their process, their story. Discovering art on a screen can feel flat. But the moment you hear an artist talk about why they made something, there's an emotional shift. It stops being a product and starts being a relationship. That changes how people collect.

For collectors specifically, our "Make an Offer" feature is significant. The art world has historically hidden prices behind "inquire" buttons, which benefits insiders and alienates everyone else. Peggy maintains transparent pricing histories and a public registry of ownership. Collectors can look at comparable sales and current offers, and the ability to bid means genuine market value emerges organically rather than being dictated from the top down. That transparency gives collectors real information to make confident decisions.

On the artist and gallery side, our Send Invoice tool solves a quiet but important problem. If a gallery closes a sale offline, at an art fair or over dinner, they can use Peggy to process that transaction. We waive our standard fee entirely, charging only the 2.9% credit card processing cost, and the artwork gets digitally fingerprinted and registered. For the collector, that means the piece they just bought is now authenticated and can be resold on Peggy in the future. For the artist, it means they're enrolled for their 5% royalty if that piece ever changes hands. Everyone benefits from more art entering the authenticated ecosystem.

Marcel Breuer Wassily chair beside abstract red painting and rubber plant in bright modern living room

Image Courtesy Peggy

Is it possible to resell on Peggy artwork that was originally purchased elsewhere - not through the platform?

Yes, with an essential step to protect the integrity of the ecosystem. The artwork must first be authenticated and registered on Peggy. Think of Peggy as a digital catalogue raisonné for our vetted artists. If an artist or gallery sells a piece privately, they can use our tools to scan the physical work, create its Digital Fingerprint, and associate it with the buyer. Once that provenance (the verified history of who owned the work and when) is established in our system, the collector gains the full flexibility of Peggy's secondary market. They can list and resell that artwork whenever they choose, with the confidence that it's been authenticated and that the transaction is secure.

What are your priorities for improving Peggy going forward? How closely do you engage with your users, and what are the most common things they're asking for?

We engage with our community constantly. It's one of the advantages of being a relatively small, focused team that genuinely cares about this space.

The most consistent thing we hear from collectors is that they want more. More artists, more inventory, more content, more Pegcasts, more ways to learn about the artists they're following. That's a healthy signal. It tells us the core experience is working and people want to go deeper.

On the community side, we're seeing growing demand for social features: collectors wanting to share their collections, compare notes, discover new work through each other. That kind of peer-driven discovery is something we think about a lot. When a collector you respect adds a new piece to their Pegboard, that signal carries weight. Building on that social fabric is central to what comes next.

What is the single most valuable piece of advice you would give to artists today?

Take ownership of your provenance and your secondary market from day one. Don't wait. Provenance is the documented chain of ownership and authenticity for an artwork, and historically, artists have had almost no control over it once a piece leaves their studio.

For a long time, artists have been told to focus on the primary sale and let everything downstream take care of itself, which usually just means auction houses and flippers capture the upside. That's changing, and artists have more tools available to them now than at any point in history.

Concretely: document your catalogue raisonné digitally, authenticate your sales, and partner with platforms that guarantee you royalties. Treat your career as a long-term body of work, not a series of one-off transactions. You are the one building the value of your market, and you deserve to share in that value as it grows.

Colorful abstract geometric shapes print in white frame hung between two windows with monstera plant

Image Courtesy Peggy

How do you see Peggy's role in helping younger generations take their first steps into art collecting?

Younger collectors are culturally engaged and financially literate, but they expect asset classes to be transparent, digital-first, and liquid. They manage investments from their phones. The traditional art market is the opposite of all of that: opaque, analog, and illiquid. There's a fundamental mismatch.

What Peggy does is translate fine art into the kind of experience younger people already trust. Social curation, audio storytelling, transparent pricing, a clean mobile interface. But the thing that really unlocks participation is the secondary market. Spending $1,000 on a painting is a meaningful commitment for most people, and it's a much harder decision if you believe you're stuck with it forever. The moment a collector knows they can resell that piece securely if their life circumstances change, the calculus shifts. The intimidation drops. They take the leap, they support a living artist, and they start building a collection.

We want people to feel that buying art is the beginning of a journey, not a financial commitment they can't undo. That shift in mindset is what opens the door.

Date

06.04.2026

Tags
Digital Media & Technologyart marketplaceart collectingartist royaltiesart authenticationdigital fingerprintsecondary art marketemerging artistsart technologyart investmentmobile art appart provenanceCraig FollettPeggy appart resalenew collectorsart fintechliquid art marketart platformart startupcontemporary art market
Installation view of Anselm Kiefer’s “The Women Alchemists” at Palazzo Reale, Sala delle Cariatidi, Milan, featuring monumental textured panels with alchemical and figurative imagery.
8 min

Kiefer: The Women Alchemists at Palazzo Reale, Milan

By Francesca Interlenghi

Anselm Kiefer, one of the most influential figures in contemporary art, pays tribute to female alchemists with a new pictorial cycle conceived specifically for the Palazzo Reale in Milan.

If there is one realm where the world’s complex disunity, the tension between the empirical and the ideal, can coexist, it is certainly the realm of art. This is especially true in reference to the work of Anselm Kiefer (b. 1945, Donaueschingen, Germany), whose practice has always involved wandering and division, generating a ceaseless fluctuation between unity and rupture. After all, when Kiefer emerged on the German art scene in 1969, he did so with a disruptive gesture: a series of works dedicated to the memory of World War II, forcing Germany to confront its repressed past. It was not merely a provocative act but also a critical intervention that cracked the collective amnesia of the postwar era and brought to light what had been buried under the weight of reconstruction.  He certainly did not escape criticism, especially from the American press, when he and Georg Baselitz represented the German Pavilion at the 1980 Venice Biennale. His colleague presented a tempera-painted wooden work titled “Model for a Sculpture” that bore too close a resemblance to a depiction of Adolf Hitler. This did nothing to dispel the prejudices of those who viewed Kiefer’s work with suspicion, particularly its references to Martin Heidegger’s controversial philosophy. “I don’t identify with Nero or Hitler, but I have to recreate some of what they did to understand their madness. That’s why I make these attempts to become a fascist,” read an article that same year titled “Venice 1980: Contemporary Art Made in Germany,” written by Axel Hecht and Werner Krüger and published in the magazine “Art: Das Kunstmagazin.”

Portrait of Anselm Kiefer standing before a large textured painting with gold surface and sculptural face, photographed at Palazzo Reale, Milan.

Anselm Kiefer © photo Ela Bialkowska OKNO studio​

Monumentality, Materiality, and the Legacy of Joseph Beuys

This boldness is not unusual for Kiefer; it permeates his entire body of work. One might call it a rejection of historical, formal, and perceptual limits. The monumentality and density of his paintings, achieved through the use of unconventional materials such as lead, ash, straw, and earth, are never mere cosmetic effects. Rather, they are devices through which the artist explores the depths of time and memory. Kiefer is more drawn to the shamanic side of his mentor, Joseph Beuys, than the strictly conceptual one. From the outset, it has been the energetic potential rather than formal innovation that has fascinated him, leading him to navigate contemporary artistic experiences with ease and confront the anguish of drama and memory. His ability to engage with history and confront taboos merges personal and collective memories, thanks to the space offered by the canvas. The picture plane is continually interwoven with textural elements of strong symbolic significance. His characters, blended with sand, seeds, and sunflowers, draw from German literature and mythology. They range from Rumpelstiltskin, the small, goblin-like being with cunning and deceitful intelligence who turns straw into gold, to Margarete and Sulamith. These figures embody two opposing historical and spiritual universes and are the protagonists of the poetic transfiguration of the Holocaust in Paul Celan’s 1945 masterpiece, “Todesfuge”. They all evoke the power of fire as a demiurgic force, a metaphor for the manipulation and transfiguration that takes place in the artist’s work.

Installation view of Anselm Kiefer’s “The Women Alchemists” at Palazzo Reale, Sala delle Cariatidi, Milan, featuring large-scale textured panels with alchemical and figurative imagery.

Anselm Kiefer. The women alchemist. Milan, Palazzo Reale, Sala delle Cariatidi. Installation view. Photo © Ela Bialkowska, OKNO Studio​

Art Will Survive Its Ruins: Kiefer’s Lectures and the Philosophy of Artistic Survival

But there is more to it than that. Art’s power lies in its remarkable ability to reinvent itself in other places and times despite adversity, trauma, and decay. Not by chance, the title of the book compiling Kiefer’s lectures at the Collège de France (2010–2011) is Art Will Survive Its Ruins. The complex nature of art, which cannot be fully understood through definitions or aesthetic theories, emerges in all its disruptive force in the major exhibition “The women alchemist,” dedicated to the German artist at Palazzo Reale in Milan. Curated by art historian Gabriella Belli and promoted by the Municipality of Milano-Cultura, the exhibition project consists of a new site-specific work specifically conceived for the Sala delle Cariatidi. This is a significant venue because it was devastated by the 1943 bombings and was never fully restored. It is a space that bears the dialectic between destruction and rebirth inscribed in its very architecture.

Installation view of Anselm Kiefer’s “The Women Alchemists” at Palazzo Reale, Sala delle Cariatidi, Milan, featuring large-scale textured panels with alchemical and figurative imagery.

Anselm Kiefer. The women alchemist. Milan, Palazzo Reale, Sala delle Cariatidi. Installation view. Photo © Ela Bialkowska, OKNO Studio​

The Female Alchemists: Forgotten Figures of Science, Knowledge, and Transformation

The exhibition consists of 42 monumental canvases envisioned as a single piece. These works explore Kiefer’s central themes of collective memory, identity, destruction, regeneration, myth, and history. At the center is the figure of the female alchemist. The artist creates a female pantheon that highlights figures often excluded from the official narrative: Caterina Sforza, daughter of Galeazzo Maria Sforza, Duke of Milan; Isabella Cortese, credited with one of the most famous books of secrets of the Renaissance; Kleopatra, one of the very few women to whom Greek sources attribute an authorial role in the alchemical tradition; and Cristina di Svezia, daughter of Gustavo II Adolfo Vasa and Maria Eleonora di Brandeburgo, who transformed Stockholm into a center of European patronage; Margaret Cavendish, one of the few 17th-century female philosophers whose works intertwined metaphysics, poetry, and science; Mary Anne Atwood, a key figure in the 19th-century English ‘spiritual’ reception of alchemy; Perenelle Flamel, a wealthy benefactor, collaborator, and wife of the alchemist Nicolas Flamel; Marie Meurdrac, a self-taught chemist and pioneer of female scientific outreach; Anne Marie Ziegler, a court alchemist in Reformation Germany who was burned at the stake in 1575 for theories deemed wicked and arrogant; and Sophie Brahe, a bridge between courtly culture and the laboratory. The result is an imaginary field in which these figures reemerge as archetypes: pioneering scientists and custodians of empirical knowledge, bodily practices, and hybrid knowledge spanning medicine, cosmetics, and spirituality. Their stories also speak of exclusion, persecution, disguise, and recantation. For this reason, they become symbols of alternative, marginal yet fundamental knowledge.

Installation view of Anselm Kiefer’s “The Women Alchemists” at Palazzo Reale, Sala delle Cariatidi, Milan, featuring large-scale textured panels with alchemical and figurative imagery.

Anselm Kiefer. The women alchemist. Milan, Palazzo Reale, Sala delle Cariatidi. Installation view. Photo © Ela Bialkowska, OKNO Studio

Alchemy, Matter, and the Transformation of Materials in Kiefer’s Painting

In keeping with Kiefer’s modus operandi, which can be interpreted as a contemporary form of alchemy, each canvas is an act of re-emergence, with faces and bodies rising from the magmatic chaos of elements piled on the surface. The alchemical motto, “Obscurum per obscurius, ignotum per ignotius” (the obscure through the more obscure; the unknown through the even more unknown), is not just a reference but a key to understanding the project as a whole. Like an alchemist, the artist transforms matter. However, while alchemy aspires to transmuting metals into gold and regenerating matter, Kiefer’s ultimate goal coincides with art itself. In other words, the “gold” is the artwork, yet it always remains beyond perception and understanding. This exploration yields visible fragments of an invisible, boundless reality. These fragments do not seek to represent, but rather to evoke, layer, and conceal. After all, for the artist, the creation of a painting is a constant back-and-forth between nothingness and something. It is an incessant oscillation between one state and another. It is an uncontrolled process that follows no rules and relies on moments of transition. In this context, materials become of crucial importance. Faced with certain substances, Kiefer recounts finding himself viewing them differently, as if seeking to transcend or spiritualize the elements. Such was the case with lead, the discovery of which in the pipes of an old house was a veritable shock, an attraction impossible to put into words because it seemed to move beyond the insurmountable limits of our reality. Lead contains a spark of light that seems to belong to an inaccessible world.

Installation view of Anselm Kiefer’s “The Women Alchemists” at Palazzo Reale, Sala delle Cariatidi, Milan, featuring large-scale textured panels with alchemical and figurative imagery.

Anselm Kiefer. The women alchemist. Milan, Palazzo Reale, Sala delle Cariatidi. Installation view. Photo © Ela Bialkowska, OKNO Studio​

If we were to name that inaccessible world, we might call it “totality,” which is the sense of infinity that reconnects humanity with the deepest meaning of artistic creation. This meaning coincides with the sphere of being itself. “I have faith only in art, and without it, I am lost,” he argues. “I could not live without poetry or paintings, not only because I don’t know how to do anything else, but for almost ontological reasons. I distrust reality, even though I know that works of art are also an illusion in their own way.” Paintings and poems coexist within the same symbiotic dimension. This dimension does not imprison existence and its multiplicity within a single, complete whole. Far from it. Kiefer offers a promise of the absolute with an uncertain outcome. Yet, as it unfolds, it reveals signs of transformation. The artist exposes his works to the open air and elements, allowing natural forces to take precedence over human creation. This makes the contradiction, the constant oscillation between process and result, all the more evident.

Installation view of Anselm Kiefer’s “The Women Alchemists” at Palazzo Reale, Sala delle Cariatidi, Milan, featuring large-scale textured panels with alchemical and figurative imagery.

Anselm Kiefer. The women alchemist. Milan, Palazzo Reale, Sala delle Cariatidi. Installation view. Photo © Ela Bialkowska, OKNO Studio​

Art as Ontological Resistance: Rilke and the Poetics of Transformation

There is a deeply lyrical passage by Rainer Maria Rilke that Kiefer mentions in his lectures and that captures this sense of transformation well. A few lines from Sonnets to Orpheus (Sonnet II, 13) read:

And if the world has forgotten you,

say to the silent earth. I flow.

To the rushing water speak: I am.

Perhaps there is no better way to end a reflection on Kiefer than with these lines. Like the exhibition itself, they are an invitation to experience a form of ontological resistance through art. They are a tenacious affirmation of life in opposition to its annihilation.

Installation view of Anselm Kiefer’s “The Women Alchemists” at Palazzo Reale, Sala delle Cariatidi, Milan, featuring large-scale textured panels with alchemical and figurative imagery.

Anselm Kiefer. The women alchemist. Milan, Palazzo Reale, Sala delle Cariatidi. Installation view. Photo © Ela Bialkowska, OKNO Studio​

​​

Kiefer. The Women Alchemists

Milan, Palazzo Reale – Sala delle Cariatidi 

From February 7th to September 27th, 2026 

Curated by art historian Gabriella Belli, promoted by the Municipality of Milano-Cultura and produced by Palazzo Reale and Marsilio Arte, with the contribution of Gagosian and Galleria Lia Rumma and supported by Main Sponsors Unipol and Banca Ifis, 

The exhibition is part of the cultural program for the Milano Cortina 2026 Winter Olympics.

Date

26.03.2026

Tags
Art & IllustrationAnselm KieferKiefer exhibition MilanPalazzo Reale MilanWomen Alchemistscontemporary art exhibition 2026German contemporary artGabriella Belliart and alchemyfemale alchemists historyMilan art exhibitions 2026Sala delle CariatidiKiefer paintings materialsart and memorycontemporary art Italycultural events Milan