Digital art and museums are having a moment.

In recent years, major institutions including MoMA, LACMA, Centre Pompidou, and the Whitney have built serious programs around computational media and blockchain-based work. The Museum of the Moving Image took things even further, partnering with the Tezos Foundation to support digital artists and to integrate blockchain into its institutional framework.

But the bigger story might be the wave of new institutions purpose-built for digital practices. NODE launched recently in Palo Alto with reconfigurable exhibition infrastructure. CANYON opens later this year in New York as a hybrid museum-performance venue. Refik Anadol’s Dataland is set to become the world’s first Museum of AI Arts in a Frank Gehry building in Downtown LA. Meanwhile, in Hong Kong, M+ keeps digital artists in the headlines with its Facade commission on a giant screen overlooking Kowloon. And in Doha, Qatar Museums are running Digital Agenda 2030, using technology as a route to cultural innovation. All the while, The Museum of Art + Light is reimagining what collections mean when the work is born digital.

These aren’t just exhibition spaces: they’re experiments in what cultural institutions look like in an age of liquid display. Some examples, such as HEK Basel, have even asked how to decentralize a museum entirely, whether through distributed networks or blockchain governance.

After years spent asking whether digital art belongs in museums, we’re finally asking the right question: what sort of museums best suit digital art?

— Danielle King, Head of Community at Right Click Save

I am loving the fact that the galleries are staying open until 10pm on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays at Tate Britain, London, until the exhibition “Lee Miller” closes on Sunday February 15, 2026. The success of the exhibition is a tribute both to the impact of the US photographer’s work—from Surrealist Paris in the 1930s, to high-concept fashion images for Vogue, to war photography as the Allied forces moved into Germany in 1944-45—and to the curatorial decision to put Miller’s work first, and to allow the detail of her mythical private life and collaborations with powerful men to impact the show as and when it serves the professional context of her camerawork.

Miller is an inspiration to artists in film and digital processes, including Hermine Bourdin and Hervé Martin Delpierre’s film and NFT collaboration Under the Moon (2025). Both Bourdin and Martin Delpierre cited, among the inspirations for their story of a Venus statue dawning into dancing life, Miller’s performance as a classical statue that comes to life in Jean Cocteau’s Le Sang d’un Poète (1930), the first film in the poet and playwright’s Orphée trilogy. Cocteau’s allusion to the Pygmalion myth, where a male artist falls in love with the figure of a female statue he has carved only for it to come to life, resonates with the progress of Miller, model to Edward Steichen and Man Ray who escaped her male mentors’ gaze to became a studio and reportage photographer of the first rank. “It was a matter,” Miller once said, “of getting out on a damn limb and sawing it off behind you.”

Thanks to nearly half a century of extraordinary archival work by Miller’s son Antony Penrose, the photographer has not lacked for institutional attention in the past two decades and visitors to Farleys, the house in the Sussex countryside that Miller shared with her second husband, the Surrealist artist Roland Penrose, can see exhibitions of both artists’ work in the summer months. The Tate exhibition, the largest of its kind mounted by a UK institution, offers a particular focus on the work and on images taken by Miller in the late 1930s in the deserts of Egypt, photographs rich with metaphor for later viewers and taken for love rather than for a magazine deadline.

— Louis Jebb is Managing Editor at Right Click Save.