“It doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable being around people because I trust the government’s response to the virus,” Mr. Lim said as he made his way through the crowd of about 50 inside the gallery’s two-story, 3,200-square-foot space. He pointed to South Korean policies that have come to be seen as an international model: government-supplied N95-grade masks for everyone, comprehensive testing, thorough contact tracing of the infected, and immediate isolation of anyone exposed to an infected person.

Here at Lehmann Maupin, a gallery attendant dutifully took down the name, address and phone number of everyone who came through the front door — just in case someone at the opening later found out they had been exposed to the virus. Yet with the daily national infection rate having fallen to single digits, Mr. Lim appeared downright blasé about any remaining risks. His mask was pulled down below his chin; others in the crowd offhandedly explained that their masks were in their cars.

Mr. Lim was far more concerned that his full name might appear in a newspaper article about wealthy art collectors. Given his China-focused technology business, he was wary of attracting attention from Beijing. (Passion is the first name Mr. Lim uses online when chatting about culture.) “Now is actually a good time to see if you can buy art,” he continued, “because collectors around the world having a hard time have put forward quite good art pieces into the market at cheap prices.”