Vittoria Benzine, Elephant’s resident psychic, returns to read the art world’s tarot. What revelations came true from her last reading? How should the industry prepare for the coming year?
This has been a nine year—add the four integers in 2025, and you get nine. There you have it, a quick shot at numerology. Nine is a number of tying up loose ends; there is no ten after. Add one and zero, that’s one. Eleven is its own master number, but we can address that in 2027, god willing.
2025 has fallen under the Year of the Snake in Chinese astrology, emphasising the number nine’s theme of molting. There are twelve signs in the annual Chinese zodiac, so this makes for an interesting alignment. The last Year of the Snake, for example, was 2013, a number six year.
It’s no wonder that the art world endured such a serious dark night of the soul these past twelve months or so, bearing in mind the down market and the realisations it brought—namely, how art relies on capital. This year was a cosmic purge. But look at Fall’s auction results! Look at Art Basel Miami Beach! I’m quite proud that we foresaw the current morale tide shift at the top of last month’s spread. Now, the makings of a comeback abound. Together, we can all manifest it.
These last days of 2025 are charged and contemplative, echoing the misty, trancelike oil paintings of Canadian artist Darby Milbrath’s debut New York solo show, The Raving Ones, up through 17 January. Has art shed what needs to be shed? To find out before the Year of the Horse starts in February, I synthesize a year-end spread and pull cards from the Tattoo Tarot deck I bought in L.A. three years ago. I used to consider this deck bad luck. I’ve since shed such superstitions.
Keeping with the spirit of the season, I pull nine cards—five from left to right on the bottom row, then four right to left on the top. The placements go like this: first, how did we start the year? Second, what did we want when the year started? Third, what did we need? Fourth, what did we get? Fifth, where are we at? Sixth, what should the art world take pride in? Seventh, what’s our biggest area for growth? Eighth, what do we still need to relinquish? Ninth, how should we prepare? And, tenth—just so the bottom of the deck has a role—what should we expect next?
I close my eyes and pull, slowly. Upon opening my eyes, I say to myself, “This is why I don’t use this deck.” Look at all those reversals! Alas, they’re sometimes good. The Devil is a sexy card, but it ultimately means addiction, bondage. In our first spot, it’s reversed, meaning release. The art world began this year prepared to molt its worst parts. This is a Major Arcana card, after all.
There are a lot of Majors in this spread, actually. The Magician reversed is in our second spot. This has a more sinister meaning. When 2025 began, the art world planned to use its powers for evil.
Look at the next three cards; clear visual alignments like these always make me feel certain the cards are talking to me. Our spread’s only three upright cards are all right here, in a row, in the same suit—ascending. We also get to see the Ten of Cups, one of the prettiest cards in this deck.
What did we need? The Six of Cups—a return to a more innocent state. What did we get? The Ten of Cups—total emotional fulfilment. Not bad! And where are we at now? The Ace of Cups.
This is actually so perfect. That Ten to Ace of Cups progression emphasises the fresh emotional start that the ace represents. But do you know what this Cups trio really tells me? The nature of the hard times art encountered wasn’t intellectual (as Swords would suggest), or creative (like Wands), or even financial (Pentacles). It was emotional. And the art world is successfully growing through it. Look at all the galleries that started collaborating this year, the bold shows that got mounted because people returned to play. Can we please keep this going?
To that end, the first card on our top row tells us that the art world should take pride in the Hierophant reversed. This card is nice both ways, but it’s more fun in this direction. It means art should relish thwarting tradition. Julie Mehretu comes to mind because, whether she’s saving Nina Simone’s home or making youth tickets free at the Whitney, she uses her power creatively.
So, how should the art world focus on growth as 2025 ends? By focusing on the Ace of Pentacles reversed—in other words, fiscal practicality. Perhaps we must release what doesn’t matter. The next card doubles down on this, because what are we advised to release? The Fool reversed. This is a good spot to get this card in. Again, the tarot reminds art to shed all its foolish naiveté.
And how should we prepare for the coming year? Here, art gets the Queen of Cups reversed. This is the spread’s hardest card to interpret. I think it means the art world isn’t quite done connecting with its emotional core. Let’s take this critical period of holiday downtime to nurture our hearts.
The bottom of the deck presents the King of Swords reversed as the energy that the art world ought to expect next. In the spirit of the Queen of Cups reversed, this indicates that an intellectual transformation is nigh. The progression from Queen to King underscores it.
Craving more predictions for 2026? We’ll pull those cards next month. For now, happy holidays!
