Serendipity: The Painting That Connected Me to Sergio Marchionne
"I've always had this incredible sense of urgency. I've always had this desire not to let things fester and to really seize the moment, because it's serendipity." Sergio Marchionne
A few days ago marked a sad anniversary — the passing of Sergio Marchionne, who died on July 25, 2018. His legacy continues to inspire many, and I feel privileged to share a personal story that, years later, still resonates deeply with me. 2018 was a very intense year : I was working on a large commission for P&O Cruises, with tight deadlines and total focus. Around that time, my American art gallerist informed me that one of my paintings, titled Serendipity, had been placed “on hold” for a client.
She simply told me it was temporarily unavailable for other collectors. A week later, she confirmed that the client had completed the purchase. I received the shipping address — and when I read the name, I paused: Sergio Marchionne.
A coincidence? Or something more?
As I said, that year was hectic, and my first, superficial reaction was actually to laugh.
"Another Sergio Marchionne living in the U.S.? Funny!" I thought. It had to be just a coincidence. But the day before shipping, I took a closer look at the address.
I decided to ask my gallerist directly if the buyer was the Sergio Marchionne — at the time, CEO of Fiat Chrysler and a legendary manager I had admired for years. She confirmed it, gently asking me to keep the information confidential. I was deeply moved. A painting titled Serendipity had just connected me to one of the most visionary figures of our time — and now I even had his phone number.
Why would he buy it personally? That question stayed with me. Why would someone like him, with an entire staff at his service, choose to acquire a painting himself — discreetly, quietly? I didn’t dwell on it too long.
Then came the visit
A few weeks later, I received a personal studio visit — from Sergio Marchionne himself. He came to my studio in Milan. Calm, direct, present. He told me he wanted to see other works for his home in Switzerland. He was preparing to retire, he said.
He wanted to decompress after so many years of constant pressure, decisions, and goals. He looked visibly tired. But even then, I couldn't have imagined that it would be the last time I saw him. He told me he would return to collect the paintings after June. Just weeks later, in July 2018, the world received the heartbreaking news of his passing.
The Lesson on Leadership
During our brief but unforgettable conversation, I asked Sergio Marchionne what had drawn him to the painting Serendipity. He explained that he had always been fascinated by the idea that things happen at a certain moment — that there’s a kind of hidden timing in life, one that escapes logic but often feels precise. He told me he believed he had been born to lead — that leadership came naturally to him. Throughout his life, he had felt driven to guide people, to solve problems, "to fix things". That had been his purpose. But he also said that leadership wasn’t just about control or solutions. It was about having the ability to design an ideal — to offer people a vision, to give them responsibility, and to convince them that if they took their destiny into their own hands, they could achieve their goals — and perhaps even go beyond them. He added that this is when serendipity occurs: when something is meant for you, it finds you. It simply happens.
A Serendipity Within Serendipity
It’s no longer a secret that Sergio was already facing a serious health issue at the time.
Though he never shared it with his entourage or staff, he stayed fully committed — always online, always engaged, almost 24/7. Despite everything, he kept leading, working, and pushing forward as if nothing had changed. That quiet determination — the choice not to burden others, to keep showing up — says so much about who he was. He had already scheduled a surgery and most likely knew exactly what he was facing — both when he purchased Serendipity and when he later came to my studio in person. When he commissioned more paintings, he wasn’t just decorating a home. He was imagining a different life — one slower, quieter, more his own. For me, that encounter was pure fortune. A message. A serendipity within serendipity. After his passing, I spoke with people close to him — even his personal assistant. She, too, was surprised to discover how often he acted quietly, away from the spotlight.He helped people. He cared — deeply, constantly. Even to the very end, he was trying to fix things.