On Croatia's Adriatic coast, at a design gathering in Dubrovnik, the art consultancy Artiq ran an experiment that asked a deceptively simple question: what if a hotel's art collection came first — before architecture, interiors or furniture?
At most hotel projects, art is the final flourish, chosen once the story of the place has already been written. Artiq's CEO Patrick McCrae and Art Director Beth Fleming wanted delegates to feel the alternative. After an on-stage Q&A, designers, architects and hotel operators from across Europe split into teams, each handed a floor plan and a loose brief — an urban lifestyle hotel here, a restorative coastal retreat there — and one instruction: curate an art collection that defines the property's identity from day one.
The exercise was underpinned by six months of research. Artiq's curatorial team, led by Fleming, had toured Croatian studios, met local artists and assembled a collection of works reflecting the country's contemporary creative scene — much of it from names without international recognition. Each team received printed artcards with images and details (scale, medium, artist) and had to justify every selection they made.
What emerged was revealing. Talk moved quickly past aesthetics into atmosphere and narrative. Would a small ceramic piece create a stronger sense of arrival than a monumental painting? Could photographs set a hotel's personality before guests reached reception? One standout proposal was for a Moroccan resort whose interiors — and artwork — grew lighter as you climbed the building.
There was a Croatian payoff too. Researching the briefs meant time with local galleries and makers, conversations about craft traditions, and a closer look at how coastal light and stone architecture shape how art is made and seen in the country. Fleming's take: every destination has a creative ecosystem far richer than its handful of internationally known artists, and a curator's job is to uncover a narrative rather than impose one.
Why should a traveller care? Because this is the difference between a hotel that feels like somewhere and one that feels like anywhere. Artiq's approach — starting with place, paying artists fairly, and building collections that express surroundings rather than decorate them — is the kind of thinking that produces lobbies and corridors worth lingering in. McCrae's hope is that the conversations sparked in Dubrovnik find their way into future hotel projects, and if they do, guests will feel it, even if they never know why.