Rodrigo Padilla was introduced to the art world the way most important information is passed around in New York: by chatting and gossiping at the hair salon. The stylist got his start at the salon of Sally Hershberger, architect of the Upper West Side-defining shag popularized by Meg Ryan, before striking out on his own, where he amassed a clientele including the likes of Uma Thurman, Diane Guerrero, and Emily Sundberg. One of his early clients was Whitney Museum trustee Brooke Garber Neidich, who offered Padilla one bit of advice about entering the art world: “See everything.”
Today, as a member of the Whitney’s Drawing and Print Acquisitions Committee, Padilla helps shape the curatorial vision of one of the city’s most visible art institutions, but, in line with Neidich’s lasting directive, his sights are more frequently set on smaller galleries championing painters, sculptors, and photographers from Latin America or living in diaspora. At home, Padilla and his husband, Elliott Trice, head of product at Kyndryl and occasional model train hobbyist, have assembled a veritable who’s who of talent emerging from Padilla’s native Puerto Rico, Mexico, Venezuela, and more in their Midtown flat.
Here, Padilla takes CULTURED through their private collection, which spans anti-colonial neon sculptures, tender portraits of queer sexuality, and photos from Cuba’s Fidel Castro era.
Where does the story of your personal collection begin?
My journey began when I met Brooke Garber Neidich early in my career while working at Sally Hershberger downtown. She became my client and to this day still is. I am so grateful. She has been deeply engaged in the art world, especially with the Whitney Museum. I've had the privilege of working closely with her on numerous art events. I remember going with her to the new Whitney building, before it even opened, where she was being photographed. I got to see major pieces being installed. It was a thrilling, behind-the-scenes experience. I told her how cool it all felt, and she gave me one piece of advice: “See every show, every fair, go to every museum. See everything.” I took that to heart.
Parallel to that, Elliott, who minored in art history, was looking for art for his loft with these huge walls when we met. He discovered Sam Still in a vacant storefront while walking his dog in Long Island City, when artists actually worked in LIC. Sam does these intricate, large-format works that are made of thousands of tiny pen lines of India ink. He acquired this huge work that barely fit in our elevator, along with a smaller series of seven works that always find a home wherever we've lived.
In 2016, when Elliott became head of product for the Weather Channel, we moved to Atlanta for three years. That stint really catapulted our commitment to artists. I intentionally set out to meet people in the art world to build community. We met Veronica Kessenich (then the director of Atlanta Contemporary), and through her we were introduced to a wonderful group of artists and curators. One of the earliest was Joseph Guay, whom we commissioned to create a resin-encased feather painting that currently hangs on top of our bed.
What is the first piece you ever bought?
It was a piece by Shanequa Gay. I found her on Instagram and saw she had a work in the Art Papers auction in Atlanta. I made it my mission to go and win it, and I did. That was our first acquisition not directly through an artist. We’ve since acquired two more pieces from her and continue to admire how her practice evolves. She is a true force of nature.
Which work in your home provokes the most conversation from visitors?
Definitely Un día Feliz No. 6, 2016, by Reynier Leyva Novo. It’s a diptych: the small photograph is an archival image of a blind woman touching Fidel Castro’s face while a security guard watches, stunned. The larger image is a replica, except Castro has been removed. Reynier is Cuban, so the piece speaks volumes. It always sparks conversation.
Which artist are you currently most excited about and why?
We’re really excited about Gamaliel Rodríguez from Puerto Rico. He was part of the Whitney’s 2022-23 exhibition “No existe un mundo poshuracán,” curated by Marcela Guerrero. The museum acquired his work from that show, and this year he had his first New York solo at Sperone Westwater.
We’re also thrilled about Ana González Rojas, a Colombian artist whose recent solo show, “Bruma” at Sean Kelly Gallery, was breathtaking. She partially unravels her woven tapestries to express ecological fragility. It's hauntingly beautiful.
We’re closely following Claudia Peña Salinas, a Mexican artist represented by Embajada, who’s working on a major project in Mexico City with the Barragán Foundation and other exciting initiatives. Gallery wise, we’re especially excited to see what’s next from Swivel Gallery and Graham Wilson, who represents the formidable Amy Bravo. Her work is raw, honest, and full of force, and it’s thrilling to watch a gallery champion artists with such bold voices.
What factors do you consider when expanding your collection?
Right now, we’re focused on contemporary, working Latin American artists. It's important to us that we're supporting the work of bold voices who are making their imprint in the Latin American world. But the baseline is: Do we love it? Can we afford it? And what is this artist saying now—and 20 years from now?
What are the four must-see shows this month?
Candida Alvarez at El Museo del Barrio, Amy Sherald at the Whitney, Jack Whitten at MoMA, and Brad Kahlhamer at Venus Over Manhattan.
Do you collect anything other than art?
Not really, but Elliott collects Z scale model trains. It’s geeky in the best possible way.
What piece of advice would you give someone who wants to get into collecting?
See all the art you can. Visit shows, go to fairs, scroll endlessly. Meet artists, drink with them, dance with them, visit their studios, ask questions. If you love the work and connect with the artist, buy it. Also, you don’t need to know everything about art to collect; it starts with what moves you.
Also, listen to the gallerists; the good ones are indispensable. People like Thomas, Lauren, and Sean Kelly; Iliya Fridman at Fridman Gallery; and Manuela Paz and Christopher Rivera at Embajada, they want collectors who genuinely care about the artists. Let them teach you.
Do you see collecting as an extension of skills you’ve honed in your day job or an escape from them?
It’s both. My work has connected me with incredible voices in the art world, and it’s definitely shaped my eye. But collecting is also a way to stay curious, build community, and surround ourselves with meaning. Elliott works in tech, so collecting is a great contrast to that world. But he also sees a link: Both involve systems thinking, long-term vision, and intuition. So it’s both an escape and a mirror.
