Steve Mumford, Two Fiats, 1998
oil on canvas, 6' x 6'

Office Space

by Joan K. Smith

Originally published in the Philadelphia City Paper on March 21, 2002. Reproduced with permission.

At a time when many developers are swallowing their 'percent for art' commitment like so much castor oil, an organization in Oaks, Pa., is relishing its role as home base for an ambitious collection of edgy, contemporary art. Though SEI Investments is not the owner of the West Collection — it’s actually a private family collection begun by Paige West, daughter of company CEO Al West — it has embraced this extensive and offbeat body of art as a reflection of its progressive, decidedly un-corporate culture.

Located on 90 acres and designed by the Minneapolis architecture firm Meyer, Scherer & Rockcastle, the SEI campus has a post-industrial, techno-pastoral feel, far from the traditional "office park" compound.

The contemporary art (numbering more than 2,000 pieces) that is interspersed into the company work environment is made more prominent by the fact that West Collection artwork is the only thing hanging on the walls — no personal photos, no inspirational posters or Dilbert cartoons. This dearth of personal visual items has caused a bit of consternation among some employees, though most seem to take the policy — and the art — in stride.

An interesting, if not necessarily scientific, piece of sociological data comes from curator Lee Stoetzel’s anecdotal observation that the employees who seem most receptive to new and unusual art are the "techies" and people in hands-on positions, such as maintenance. The hardest to win over? The MBAs.

Stoetzel describes the West Collection as a "microcosm of the company as a whole. It fits with an identity about innovation and positive change." This is not corporate rhetoric: Al West has done away with secretaries, walls, and hierarchy. There are no reserved parking spaces, all employees answer their own phones, and everyone has the same size mobile workstation.

A few characteristics distinguish the West from the average corporate art collection. For one, the Wests approach their collection with a spirit of social outreach. According to Stoetzel, "Paige and Al’s idea all along was that it would be a bit like a lending gallery." One of their ongoing collaborations is with Penn’s curatorial-studies program, which has availed itself of the collection as a working lab for student discussion and study, and has used works from the collection as a basis for exhibitions.

Another difference is the focus. West and Stoetzel are determined to collect art from young or lesser-known artists, and work is chosen on its own merits. And instead of a broad, scattered sampling, the West Collection will home in on particular artists of interest by acquiring a number of pieces, providing context and continuity.

But perhaps the most intriguing aspect is the "Hot Hall," where controversial or simply unpopular work is sent. This is not a new idea, of course — many other corporate collections, such as that of Progressive, have similar exile areas for the relegation of controversial art. But the West Collection’s Hot Hall is no mere dog pound for disgraced art to languish forever. Work groups are encouraged to 'adopt' Hot Hall pieces, and a computer terminal is stationed in the hall for employees to register their comments on the art. All comments, including, in some cases, responses from the curator, are then printed in large format and posted near the art. The spirited dialogue becomes as much a part of the display as the actual works.

On my visit to the collection, the very first 'adoption' was being placed in the corporate events work area. Sean Mellyn’s Untitled (Big Girl Diptych) is an enormous, photorealistic image of a stern, looming toddler in a baby-blue dress, provoking the Hot Hall comment that "you don’t know if the little girl is friendly or if she is going to stomp on you as you walk by. She’s like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters."

The all-woman team that adopted the piece liked it because, Stoetzel says, "it reminded them of what they could be like on a bad day." As a reward for adopting a Hot Hall piece, the group will be given free reign to peruse the entire collection and pick an additional piece for their work area.

But more significantly for Philadelphia residents, the West is threading its way into the Philadelphia art scene as both a lender and a collector. Visitors to the recent "Let’s Get to Work" exhibition at Base Kamp saw part of the West Collection in Ian Dawson’s enormous sculpture of melted plastic crates; many pieces for the current Tseng Kwong Chi retrospective at the Art Alliance, which is being presented as part of PrideFest, have been loaned by the collection; and in April, the Wests will be loaning pieces for a James Hyde exhibition at the University of the Art’s Rosenwald-Wolf Gallery.

The public is encouraged to make the trip out to visit the collection, although an appointment is necessary. Stoetzel estimates that about 70 percent of the collection is installed, and this spring, after the completion of a final building, he hopes to have 90 percent installed. Because of the working nature of the facility, not everything is available for public viewing, but a significant portion is installed in public areas that are accessible to visitors.

Keep your eye on this quiet collection — it’s the closest modern-day corollary to the Barnes Foundation’s, but with the control factors inverted: Barnes’ rigidly protective curatorial dominion is replaced by the Wests’ freewheeling flair.

Joan K. Smith is an artist, freelance writer, and Associate Director of InLiquid.com
Reproduced courtesy of the Philadelphia City Paper

return to InLiquid's Commentary section index

©2003 InLiquid.com; text ©2001 Joan K. Smith and the Philadelphia City Paper