A Corporate Collection
A company asked us to build the art collection for its executive headquarters. Over two years we did, floor by floor: Alex Prager, Angela Bulloch, Jeffrey Gibson, Jeppe Hein, Elizabeth Neel, Devan Shimoyama, Harold Cohen, Vivian Springford, Linda Lopez, and many more. All acquisitions, no commissions. We handled everything the program touched, from the fairs to the crates to the wall.
A corporate collection is the hardest kind to get right, because nobody chose to be in the room. A collector’s house is full of people who already care. A museum is full of people who came on purpose. An office is full of people who came for a meeting, and the art has to reach them anyway, on a Tuesday, when they’re thinking about something else. So the standard was work strong enough to interrupt a normal day and considered enough to hold after a thousand of them. Prager’s staged cinema beside Bulloch’s light. Gibson’s beadwork down the hall from a Harold Cohen made by a machine he taught to draw. Springford’s stained color. Lopez’s ceramic drips. A building of very different arguments, made to live together.
What happened next is why I do this. The building was already light-filled and beautiful. Now it had stories in it. The staff would stop me in the hallway to tell me that there were interesting things happening in the office, that they’d started looking, that they felt a renewed sense of purpose and care about the place they spent their days. It opened up the company’s world. They didn’t buy a collection. They bought a reason to look up.
The companies that will matter to a place are the ones that treat art as part of how they operate, not as something on the wall. This is what that looks like when someone with a real budget decides to mean it.