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Rosie Millard wonders whether power-house galleries like Tate, which is so effective at wooing the private sector that it gains sponsorship from the likes of Hyundai, need public subsidy too.

He’s done it again. Sir Nicholas Serota, the high master of the visual arts world and champion of the immaculately cut suit. This is a man at home with both the high-rollers of private funding and the democracy of free admission. The careful genius behind the devolution of Tate. The brains behind the deliberately provocative Turner Prize. Above all, Serota is the engineer of Tate Modern. More than a decade after it opened, Tate Modern remains the most popular contemporary art gallery in the world. It doesn’t have the world’s best collection, or the best building. It puts on difficult, often relatively unknown work. And yet it seems as if every single young person in London and every single tourist – to name just two social groupings – wants to go there. Every week.

Is it any surprise then, that people with money want to be associated with Tate Modern? The most recent romance is with South Korean car manufacturer Hyundai – which has picked up where Unilever left off – as sponsor of the Turbine Hall, the severe jewel in the gallery’s redbrick crown. Apparently Hyundai was just one of several potential contenders. I can believe it. Which corporate giant would not want to be associated with the Turbine Hall? It is globally renowned, and it is free. People want to be there, because it promises excitement. It has been home to giant spiders, slides, millions of porcelain sunflower seeds, and Damien Hirst’s silly, diamond-studded skull. Most famously of all, it had Olafur Eliasson’s giant yellow sun, which made straightforward human beings go utterly doo-lally and start lying down on the floor.