Then I'd tilt some of the works askew by a few degrees, just to irritate his ghost.
The Earth belongs to the living. I would support a new rule against perpetuities that would limit the control a dead person may exert over their legacy to no more than 20 years beyond their own death--to include copyrights and patents.
You could pull a Goldfinger, and irradiate a bunch of gold bars, or otherwise render your wealth unvaluable or unspendable, but that just decreases the wealth supply and makes everything else in the economy a tiny fraction more valuable.
Even if you bought an extravagant Viking funeral, and burned your grave ship, and sank all your treasure to the bottom of the ocean, the world still turns without you. The value of money, goods, and services still depend mostly on the active participants in the economy. When you destroyed the representational tokens for the wealth in the economy that you controlled, their value was immediately redistributed to all the other tokens in existence, and those with the information about the destroyed tokens can theoretically earn arbitrage profit by spreading that information around.
The best you can do is to write a program that spends your estate after your death, give it to your lawyer to compile and execute on the legal mainframe, and hope no one can hack it before it accomplishes your intended goal.
This is way cooler than my gold coffin idea!
Finally, a use for Etherium I can get behind.
He bought thousands of famous works and arranged them to his taste, tightly packed on the walls in a tiny building in Merion, PA, USA. The good news is the foundation could bring out now priceless masterworks on easels to compare close up for art classes--my grandmother attended one--a rare opportunity anywhere, and anyone could tour for free.
The bad news was his will stipulated the works needed to stay as he arranged them, in that building, where there was only room to display around a tenth of his collection; the place was cramped, difficult to view the works, difficult to secure them, and probably a fire hazard for the works and the visitors.
Ultimately, after much debate and lawyering, the collection was moved to a modern facility down the street from the PMA in Philly. The letter of his will was overridden, but the intent--clearly public access and education--was followed.
https://www.barnesfoundation.org/