At the Park Avenue Armory this November, Salon Art + Design returns for its fourteenth edition and the atmosphere hums with quiet anticipation. Inside the grand drill hall, light moves across polished wood and bronze, soft jazz echoes between booths and the scent of new books and fresh lacquer lingers in the air. Salon has always stood apart — not just as a design fair but as a mood, a gathering, a way of thinking about how we live with beauty.
What began as a fair has become a conversation about the emotional architecture of collecting. Modernist lighting sits beside tribal sculpture, handwoven textiles soften the edges of cold marble, lacquered consoles meet the rough textures of bronze and clay. It feels alive and lived-in, more like a home of ideas than a market.
Now in her second year leading the fair, Nicky Dessources, Salon’s Executive Director, has brought a new rhythm — one of curiosity and openness. “What sets Salon apart is its warmth and sense of community,” she says. “It’s not about competition. It’s about connection. People slow down here. They discover. They talk.”
That spirit of discovery runs through every corner of this year’s fair. Beyond the heavy doors of the Armory, Salon has become a laboratory for the new language of luxury — one rooted in story, authenticity and care.
This year, that language finds a powerful voice in Misgana African Art, founded by Seble Asfaw, this year’s honoree for Salon Introduction, a new initiative created to spotlight emerging galleries shaping the next chapter of collectible design.
The Shift In Art Taste
In the last decade, collecting has changed. Minimalism has softened, mid-century icons no longer dominate and taste has evolved toward something more intimate, more storied. Collectors are less interested in perfection than in presence.
“We’re seeing a hunger for authenticity,” Dessources says. “Collectors are drawn to works that carry craftsmanship and meaning — pieces that hold memory, that feel alive in a space.”
At Salon, that shift is visible everywhere. Ceramic vessels share pedestals with postmodern chairs, a carved tribal mask hangs near a contemporary light sculpture. “People want to live with art now,” Dessources says. “They don’t just want to own it.”
That sensibility inspired Salon Introduction, her most ambitious addition since taking the helm. “The idea was to create space for new galleries — voices that haven’t historically been visible in the fair landscape. It’s about rediscovering that early spirit of opportunity, the same one that shaped so many of our long-standing exhibitors when they were just starting out.”
Misgana African Art embodies exactly that ethos — a gallery built not only on aesthetic excellence but also on the deeper question of how we see, interpret and honor African art in contemporary spaces.
Misgana African Art: Heritage in Conversation
Founded in 2019 and relaunched as a gallery in 2024, Misgana represents a quiet revolution in the way African art is understood and experienced. Its mission is to reframe traditional African artworks — masks, sculptures, textiles, ritual objects — not as relics of anthropology but as living works of design, innovation and spiritual intelligence.
For founder Asfaw, who grew up between Ethiopia and the U.S., this mission is personal. “African art has so often been viewed through an anthropological lens,” she says. “But these are works of design and innovation, created with the same imagination and rigor as any modern art. My goal is to bring that perspective to spaces where beauty and intention intersect.”
Asfaw’s booth at Salon is designed to feel like an interior rather than a gallery — a space where life and art flow together. “I want people to see how traditional African artworks can live naturally alongside beautiful furniture, textiles and paintings,” she says. “For me, ‘living with African art’ means having pieces that bring depth and meaning into your space. It’s about connection, not acquisition.”
That shift in thinking challenges the old hierarchies of collecting. “In the past, collecting was often about scale,” she says. “At Misgana, it’s about meaningful pieces — works that you understand and that spark curiosity and conversation. Every object in our booth, from a Baule figure to a modern console table, contributes to that sense of harmony and intentional living.”
A Circle Of Collaboration
Asfaw’s debut at Salon is a deeply collaborative effort. She worked closely with Carlo Bella, former director of Pace Gallery’s African and Oceanic Art department, and Rahel Semegn, founder of Abé Interiors, to create a space that feels both grounded and transcendent.
Bella remembers meeting Asfaw years ago when she began visiting his gallery in New York. “Asfaw used to come by regularly,” he says. “She’d study the pieces carefully, and ask thoughtful questions. I admired her curiosity, her intelligence, her passion.” Their conversations turned into mentorship, and later, into friendship.
When Misgana launched, Bella immediately saw something rare. “She’s determined to present African art to a broader audience,” he says. “For too long, the field has been dominated by exclusivity — by private collectors and opaque institutions. Asfaw brings openness. She invites dialogue.”
For Bella, Salon offers the perfect setting to reimagine how African art can be experienced. “Since the pandemic, African art has been shown mostly in museums or auction houses,” he says. “Salon allows us to show it in a living context — surrounded by furniture and light, where people can imagine it in their homes. It shows that these works are not just for collectors. They’re for everyone who values beauty and craft.”
The installation also draws on the creative vision of Semegn, whose interior design practice bridges art, architecture and emotion. “Our approach began with reverence,” she says. “We wanted the booth to feel like a conversation between eras — ancestral forms meeting modern compositions. Each piece is part of that dialogue.”
Semegn’s design combines warm woods, sand-casted bronze, woven textures and soft stone. “Design is a language of rhythm and memory,” she says. “It allows culture to speak through space. We wanted visitors to feel a sense of grounding, as if they’ve stepped into something sacred made new again.”
The collaboration between Asfaw, Bella and Semegn feels more like a creative circle than a partnership — a blending of minds working toward the same emotional truth. “Bella has always been a mentor,” Asfaw says. “He’s taught me to look deeply, to understand not just what a piece is but what it represents. Semegn brings that same spirit through design — she translates emotion into space.”
Together, they’ve created something that feels alive — a living room of ideas. “I want people to feel present,” Asfaw says. “To stand in the space and feel curiosity, familiarity, respect.”
The Ethics Of Care
In a market where provenance and access are often gatekept, Asfaw’s approach stands apart. “Misgana was born out of frustration,” she says. “The African art world can feel intentionally opaque — guarded by a select few. I wanted to create something different, built on transparency and education. Collecting should feel accessible, especially for people of African descent who want to reconnect with their heritage.”
She’s candid about the challenges. “A lot of the market still operates through private networks,” she says. “Authenticity doesn’t always depend on extensive paperwork — sometimes that system has even been used to exclude or undervalue certain works. What matters is understanding where a piece comes from, who made it and why. That’s the kind of honesty we’re committed to.”
For Asfaw, this kind of collecting is both ethical and emotional. “When you understand the story behind an object, it naturally finds its place,” she says. “It becomes part of your life, not just your collection.”
Bella agrees. “African art is the foundation of modern aesthetics,” he says. “At the turn of the twentieth century, it shaped Modernism, Cubism, Surrealism. Living with these objects deepens our understanding of all art — it gives us access to a universal language of creativity.”
That sense of continuity is what drives Asfaw’s curation. “These objects have always been in dialogue with the modern world,” she says. “They’re not static. They’ve influenced architecture, design and fashion. My hope is that the design world continues to embrace that — not as a trend but as truth.”
Art And Design As A Shared Language
For Dessources, Misgana’s presence at Salon reflects a larger evolution across the fair. “The crossover between art, fashion and design has always been part of Salon’s DNA,” she says. “But now, collectors see them as one creative language. A beautifully made chair, a sculpture or a piece of jewelry all express the same values — craftsmanship, imagination, individuality.”
She speaks about Salon’s recent collaborations with Bergdorf Goodman and fine jewelry designers as examples of how disciplines can merge. “The future of collectible design lies in connection,” Dessources says. “When more voices and traditions are represented, the narrative becomes richer.”
In that sense, Misgana isn’t just an exhibitor — it’s a symbol. “Asfaw’s work represents what Salon Introduction was created to celebrate,” Dessources says. “It’s about honoring legacy while inviting new stories into the room.”
For Semegn, interior design is part of that same global dialogue. “Design can hold history and emotion at once,” she says. “It reminds us of where we come from and it opens space for what’s next.”
The result, in the Armory’s vast halls, feels less like a fair and more like a cultural summit — a space where stories breathe.
The Future Of Art Collecting
As design and art continue to blur, the act of collecting has become deeply personal. It’s less about possession, more about participation. “We’re moving past ownership toward relationships,” Asfaw says. “Collecting is about connection — between histories, materials and people.”
That vision of “sustainable collecting,” as she calls it, is about integrity and intention. “It’s about buying fewer, better pieces — the ones you feel connected to,” she says. “Scale means nothing without soul.”
Dessources sees this as the future of Salon itself. “Success isn’t just about sales,” she says. “It’s about how people feel when they leave. Do they feel inspired? Curious? Connected? If they do, then we’ve done our job.”
Looking ahead, her vision for Salon’s next decade is both grounded and ambitious. “I want Salon to keep evolving with the times while staying true to its spirit — that dialogue between art and design that makes it special,” she says. “I’d love to see it embrace new voices, new countries and new ways of experiencing creativity. Wherever Salon may go, I want it to remain a place of discovery.”
Back at Misgana’s booth, visitors linger. They move slowly, tracing the carved lines of a wooden figure, the soft rhythm of woven fiber. The lighting feels like dusk — quiet, reverent. There’s something different in the air here, something that feels less like display and more like communion.
Asfaw watches them, smiling. “I just want people to feel something,” she says softly. “To feel present, to recognize that these works carry life. That’s what collecting should be — not about possession but participation.”
In that moment, the fair’s grand premise — design as dialogue — becomes real.
Art And Design As Diplomacy
At its core, Salon is about connection — between cultures, generations and ideas. In the Armory’s vaulted hall, each booth becomes a small embassy of creativity, each object a gesture of dialogue. There’s something profoundly diplomatic about the way a fair like this unfolds — not through speeches or treaties but through form, color and craft.
To walk through Salon is to witness the quiet work of diplomacy — how a sculptor in Ghana speaks to a designer in Paris, how a Venetian glassblower echoes the rhythm of a Japanese weaver. Design becomes a shared language, bridging distance through touch and imagination.
Perhaps that is the true message of Salon Art + Design today — that collecting, at its best, is an act of empathy. It invites us to listen to other cultures and to let those stories shape how we live.
As the lights dim across Park Avenue and the crowd begins to thin, there’s a sense that what remains is not just beauty but understanding. Design, after all, is a form of diplomacy — and this year at Salon, the conversation feels more human than ever.