One of my first jobs out of college was working for a contemporary photography gallery in NYC’s Chelsea. It’s still there and they rep fantastic artists. I believe my title was “archivist” which actually meant sitting at the Front Desk, greeting people, and categorizing endless images and files. Many times I would walk into a neighboring gallery and the person behind the desk would hardly glance up. And if they did, they certainly would not say hi. I really detest this experience within the art world. I always made it a point to say hello when people entered the gallery. It was really not that hard. It’s strange to me that art has not picked up on that most entry-level hospitality pillar of warmly welcoming others in. But it’s not really made for that…read on.
Here’s the first of two Tilda Swinton film references in this post : I was recently giddy and laugh/crying while watching Problemista by Julio Torres by the trauma surrounding past Filemaker Pro users…it all came back to me. Gallery gals, at me. One of my favorite pastimes is gallery hopping (right up there with wine tasting. Luckily, they often go hand in hand) and I really enjoyed living and breathing the art industry for a bit. The only problem was that the gallery owner was a bit maniacal and prone to screaming throughout the small gallery, which echoed harshly against the white walls. He also did not allow employees to wear open toed shoes (no summery sandals, hun) and once forced us all to come in at 8am on a Sunday when a B list actor who shall remain nameless said that he wanted to stop in to *maybe* purchase a 30k limited edition print that had been in our storage space for far too long.
My last straw came when he screamed at me for what felt like days on end about a mini-stapler that I forgot to ship with a box of other misc items to Paris Photo. This was before any sort of verbal abuse in the work place was subject to cancel culture and generally everyone who worked there was 24/7 miserable.
I had always been interested in the hospitality industry but had focused on getting a job after college in magazines or art. I hadn’t really dug in on what hospitality could mean for me outside of my summer restaurant hostess jobs. One thing that struck me about my gallery experience was that although I was physically as “in the space” as I could be - tucked behind a gallery desk - I couldn’t afford to own the work or even relate to the collectors at the time. I did make a lasting friendship with one of the artists whom I really admired, which is a huge pro of the experience. But I didn’t exactly “live the brand” as they say. I remember the Director of Sales telling me that her role was less about telling the story of the pieces, but rather, finding a piece that best matched the buyer’s sofa, or made sense as part of their investment strategy. It felt like a buzzkill and took away a lot of the romance of the art world for me. This was all pretty brilliantly portrayed in the doc The Price of Everything.
What I reflected on at the time and even now, in retrospect, is this : What I love about art is that it challenges you to think and feel and see new things. Art isn’t a trend or a particular moment in time; at its best, it transcends. There will (hopefully) always be people with the guts to create things. My experience in the gallery was that the commodification of it all became boring to me. It zapped the creativity out of it when it became so sales-y. I got excited about hotels when I realized that although they are certainly a luxury at many levels, they have a transformative quality that is more accessible than walking into a gallery and knowing you can’t truly immerse in the work because it’s just hung there, waiting for someone to purchase it.
I started to ponder what I dream job could mean for me, and felt excited about the idea of creating a hotel brand that I was passionate about. I starting conceptualizing what I called Le Motel at the time; a motel conversion brand. This was 2008 so some were doing it but not many yet, and it felt like a really exciting and somewhat accessible way to enter the industry. (I co-founded Casetta in 2019 and admire so many other brands in that very specific boutique space : Shelter Social Club, Nomada, The Madrona to name a few) After chatting with some friends and mentors, I realized that if I wanted to “do” hotels, I’d have to at least work in one to see what it was about and learn about the industry a bit. I gave the angry gallerist my two weeks notice and took a job as a cocktail server at Ace Hotel New York.
In a hotel, there’s always a way to engage. I think of hotels as immersive art experiences. If you’re booking the Penthouse; you’re really living in it; totally melting into the world, the plush robes, the slippers, the still-life-esque fruit bowl, the turn down service, the shampoo scent. But it doesn’t have to come at that five star price point. A good (let’s say a great) hotel is creating such a pure experience from start to finish that even if it’s a converted motel, you’re convinced. You’re in it. It’s relatable or covetable or just awe inspiring. It doesn’t even mean you have to book a room. You can grab a drink at the bar, snag a matchbook, pop in and touch the embossing on the menu. There are so many details that are there to welcome you in and envelope you into the imaginary world that’s been created there.
I just finished Miranda July’s All Fours. And wow. So much to discuss and I don’t want to ruin it for anyone. But her writing about the hotel room is so spectacular and perfectly on the dot about how sleeping in a room that isn’t your own has so much power and layer to it.
The art world is often stuck in a 4 white walls space with no-touch, square box canvas pieces. Of course there are many many interesting exceptions, but still, overall it’s the norm. While the word “experiential” has become so widely over-used…it’s an experience, right?…there are several art pieces that come to mind that have broken through the 4 white wall thing, and allowed the viewer inside. Not to mention the Meow Wolves, Sleep No Mores and Museum of Ice Creams that became so popular in the early to mid 2000s.
Remember The Sparrow Mart at The Standard Hotel Hollywood (RIP) in 2018? How absolutely perfect. A grocery store of 31,000 products made of felt, all for purchase at a reasonable rate. So quite-literally immersive, accessible, and a little world of it’s own, created within the genius of the trailblazing Standard hotel. It started as a Bodega at the Standard Highline, also perfect.
A hotel hits all the senses and allows the guest to feel, listen, touch, taste, smell. One of my favorite things is customizing hotel scents, selecting linens, setting glowy lighting, paying extra special attention to a musical landscape. The details are so important and if one’s amiss, the whole world that’s been so thoughtfully assembled easily starts to break down. I always use this example when discussing it with new clients : I believe that the brand should be valued at the highest level. After all of the time and money spent on a gorgeous brand identity, when there’s a spill and a wet floor sign is taped up by the desperate Ops team in a hurried Comic Sans printer paper sheet, the whole magic of the place starts to fall apart.
I think about film a lot with hotels as well. A great hotel experience is so cinematic. You’re in the movie. I’m really inspired by directors and certain films when thinking about how a hotel should feel. Luca Guadignino is truly a master of this - his films are sensorial in every way. Swinton ref #2…
This scene of Tilda eating the prawn from from Guadignino’s film, I Am Love, brings me to tears. He nails it. It’s everything. This is what a really good hotel brand should feel like!! So mesmerizing and memorable. Romantic and personal and beautiful with a little bit of humor to it? The moody lighting. The sound. You can almost touch and taste it. You get swept away in the experience. Maybe this reference makes sense only in my head. That’s ok with me. Hopefully it means something to you if you’ve gotten to the end of this dispatch. Let me know?
He recently opened a hotel, by the way. Unsurprisingly, it looks absolutely perfect.
PS - In keeping true to my “archivist” background, I keep a digital archive of my favorite corner booths. If you sit in a good one, please send it my way.