Why Klimt's $236 million portrait broke records

Gustav Klimt's Portrait of Elisabeth Lederer has long been admired by scholars, but its $236.4 million sale in New York this month - the highest price ever achieved for a work of modern art at auction - has prompted a fresh question: why this painting, and why now?

Below is a look at the artistic, historical and symbolic forces that pushed the little-seen portrait to near-Salvator Mundi territory, reports the BBC.

A late-life pivot in style that collectors prize

Painted between 1914 and 1916, the nearly two-metre portrait belongs to Klimt's late period, when he began drifting away from the gold-laden glamour of his "Golden Period". Instead of metallic opulence, Klimt turned to vivid, prismatic colour.

Experts describe this shift as a kind of "reverse alchemy": the gold that once defined his work becomes a fearless deployment of saturated blues, greens and crimsons, bordering on Expressionism. The portrait's surface shimmers not with metal but with an intensity that feels more interior - what one critic called a "psychologically teasing" charge.

For collectors, this period is rarer, more complex and arguably more mature than the work that made Klimt famous. Its "last glorious gasp of the Golden Age" aura adds further scarcity value.

A tapestry of symbols - from Qing dragons to cell theory

The painting is also a puzzle box of motifs.

Elisabeth Lederer stands in a cocoon-like gown swirling with East Asian symbols. Dragons - reminiscent of Qing Dynasty textiles representing cosmic authority - coil around her dress, giving the young woman an almost mythic, imperial presence.

Threaded between these grand symbols are subtler ones: ovoids, concentric circles and "cell-like" biomorphic forms inspired by Klimt's growing fascination with embryology and anatomy. The artist had attended lectures on cell theory by his friend Emil Zuckerkandl, and these microscopic shapes appear across his late works, forming what scholars call an "inchoate language only Klimt could coin".

The mix - imperial dragons beside embryonic forms - creates a dialogue between power, origin and identity. Collectors and museums increasingly prize works that blend cultural history with scientific curiosity.

A story of survival embedded in the canvas

The real Elisabeth Lederer, the daughter of one of Klimt's most loyal patrons, was 20 when she sat for the portrait. After Austria's annexation in 1938, the family's collection of Klimts was confiscated by Nazi officials.

Years later, facing persecution because of her Jewish ancestry, Elisabeth performed what historians describe as an "extraordinary act of self-preservation": she claimed, falsely, that Klimt - a non-Jewish artist - was her biological father. Her mother signed an affidavit supporting the fiction, and the authorities accepted it, changing Elisabeth's legal status and allowing her to survive.

The portrait's subtle references to lineage and metamorphosis - including its butterfly-like imagery - have taken on an uncanny resonance in light of her real-life reinvention.

A hidden work with a rare provenance

The painting disappeared from public view for decades, resurfacing only in the early 1980s before entering the collection of Leonard A. Lauder. Its re-emergence at auction, combined with its wartime history and the broader market appetite for trophy Klimts, helped push the price far beyond the artist's previous record of $108 million for Lady with a Fan.

The $236 million price tag reflects more than aesthetics. It binds together a late-style masterpiece, a layered web of symbolism, one woman's wartime survival story, and a provenance shaped by confiscation, disappearance and rediscovery.

For sellers and buyers alike, that combination proved irresistible - and nearly priceless.