It’s always fascinating to see how collections evolve over the course of their owners’ lives—especially when a couple collects together, each bringing a distinct background, personality and taste to the mix. That dynamic is embodied by collectors Rodrigo Padilla and Elliott Trice, whose Midtown apartment houses an impressive trove of contemporary art. More than a visually striking assemblage, their collection reads like a vivid personal diary shaped by seventeen years of shared life, travel and encounters with art in its many forms, connecting North and South American sensibilities at a timely moment. Observer sat down with the pair to explore how their life in New York has influenced their collecting and how their passion for art is evolving as they prepare for their next chapter elsewhere.
Walking through their collection, two distinct through-lines emerge. Trice gravitates toward a minimal, restrained aesthetic that reflects on both the visible and invisible structures shaping society. Padilla is drawn to a Latin expressiveness, with emotive languages and practices rooted in poetic material reconnection. Their backgrounds and current occupations couldn’t be more different: Trice, born in San Antonio, leads product at Kyndryl, while Padilla, a Puerto Rican native, has become one of New York’s most sought-after hairstylists after years in ballet, which he is working to return to.
“It’s true, Elliott is drawn to rigor, internal logic, to works that echo architecture or system breakdowns,” Padilla explains. “I respond more viscerally, emotionally, physically. I trained as a dancer in my youth, so I react to passion, movement and feeling.” As we move from room to room, these differing sensibilities begin to intertwine, blending into a calibrated interplay of aesthetic tension and unexpectedly resonant parallels.
“Our acquisition process usually starts with one of us falling in love with something and showing it to the other,” Padilla says. “If we’re both into it, it happens fast. If there’s hesitation, we give it space, talk it through, sleep on it. It’s not about convincing, it’s about alignment.”
Even when they don’t immediately agree, the couple says they trust each other’s instincts, and they never buy anything that doesn’t feel like them. “The final call is mutual, even when one of us is louder about it.”
Still, every collector remembers that first acquisition—the one that dissolves hesitation and turns curiosity into a habit. For Trice, it came through a serendipitous encounter: while walking his dog on Long Island, he noticed an artist’s studio and decided to step inside. What he discovered was the spellbinding practice of Sam Still, whose work balanced the meticulous accumulation of delicate pen marks with dense political symbolism in the form of a bomb.
For Padilla, the first acquisition was more intentional, though it, too, was sparked by a personal encounter with an artist. It was a collage by Shanequa Gay, whom he met at an event in Atlanta shortly after the couple relocated there when Elliott became head of product at The Weather Channel. “It’s an incredible critique of Thomas Kinkade that felt so culturally relevant and sharp. It was smart, funny and full of heart,” Padilla recalls. He first saw the work at the Art Papers auction in Atlanta in 2016, just before the election, and was determined to acquire it. “That piece unlocked something; it felt like staking a commitment to an artist’s voice and vision. We’ve since acquired two more works by Shanequa, and they remain anchors in our home,” he notes.
Padilla took that commitment to heart. Now a member of the Whitney’s Drawing and Print Acquisitions Committee, he helps shape the museum’s vision while keeping an eye on smaller galleries spotlighting artists from Latin America and its diaspora. At home in Midtown, he and Trice have assembled a sharp, emotionally resonant collection featuring rising talent from Puerto Rico, Mexico, Venezuela and beyond.
When the couple moved back to New York in late 2018, they made their first official gallery purchase: a Landon Metz painting from Sean Kelly Gallery. That moment marked a turning point, signaling the beginning of a strategy of building relationships with galleries and taking their collection in a more focused, long-term direction.
In New York, Padilla was introduced to the art world the way most vital intel circulates here: through salon gossip. After getting his start at Sally Hershberger’s legendary Upper West Side salon, he quickly launched his own outfit and built a loyal clientele. One of his early clients was Whitney Museum trustee Brooke Garber Neidich, who offered the couple a single, lasting piece of advice: “See everything.”
Both acknowledge that their tastes were quite different in the beginning. Elliott, who minored in art history, was drawn to minimalist structures, quiet materiality and works that asked more than they answered. I gravitated toward artists who expressed boldness, sensuality and cultural memory, often through materials charged with history or emotional grit. “Our collection now lives in the space between those two energies,” they observe as we pause to take in the room, sipping our drinks in front of a striking shoot by Cuban photographer Reynier Leyva Novo and a poignant neon “Not Your Tax Haven,” by Yiyo Tirado—Padilla with a tequila soda, Trice with a vodka tonic. And me, trying to choose between the two. That kind of tension, we agree, is where the conversation gets interesting.
A collection stays with us over the years. As time passes, sensibilities, interests and tastes shift. Padilla and Trice agree that over time, their collecting has become more focused—even if Padilla is still the more impulsive of the two. He just likes to have fun, he jokes.
In general, though, both collectors have become more intentional and more apt to ask: What is this artist saying now, and what might this human be saying 20 or 30 years from now? “I love connecting with artists personally, eating, drinking, dancing and laughing together. That closeness matters,” reflects Padilla. “We care about beauty, but only when it’s paired with depth, voice and presence,” Trice continues. “We look for clarity of thought, emotional resonance, polished execution and a sense of rhythm or movement.” Their collection feels like a living extension of who they are—rooted in values, curiosity and the time they’ve navigated together.
Their current focus is on Latin American artists. “We’ve become more intentional about uplifting those voices,” states Padilla, who was born in Puerto Rico. Lately, they’ve been engaging with artists like Sofia Gallizá Muriente, Omar Mendoza, Anthony Goicolea, Gamaliel Rodríguez, Claudia Peña Salinas, Verónica Vázquez, Angel Otero, Reynier Leyva Novo, Christopher Paz-Rivera, Gustavo Pérez Monzón, Omar Barquet, Rodrigo Valenzuela, Dagoberto Rodríguez, Ronny Quevedo, Jorge González, Emanuel Torres Pérez, Liliana Porter, Natalia Sánchez, Yiyo Tirado, Ana González Rojas, Saki Sacarello, Adonis Ferro, Melissa Calderón and Amy Bravo.
Still, the couple doesn’t define their focus too rigidly. They recently acquired a piece by Remy Jungerman, a Surinamese artist whose work explores abstraction and diasporic memory in a way that felt aligned with where they are now. Edra Soto, who is Puerto Rican, is another artist they deeply believe in. “She is not only brilliant but one of the most generous and joyful artists we know,” the couple agrees. “Her public installations are becoming more impactful by the day,” adds Padilla. Even though Elliott is not Latino, his engagement with these voices is now thoughtful and deeply committed.
When asked about the elusive “X factor” they look for in a work—what makes it feel not only right for their collection but also relevant to our time—the couple agrees that there has to be a sense of inevitability, a feeling that the work had to exist. “We look for pieces that feel like a voice in the room, something that keeps speaking long after the wall label is gone,” they explain together. “We love when an artist uses material with intention, especially when that material carries history or metaphor.” There’s a balance they’re drawn to: elegance in execution, attention to detail and clarity of finish. “As a ballet-trained dancer, I also respond to rhythm and movement, something in the work needs to breathe, to pulse,” explains Padilla. At the same time, they’re drawn to work that activates politically or socially—art that doesn’t just sit quietly but pushes.
Their guiding question remains: How is this work situated within its time? How does it challenge, reorient or propose something new? Yet probably Elliott put it best: “The X factor is when the work won’t let go of you.”
Today, Padilla and Trice have started buying from galleries and gallerists they deeply trust—like Thomas, Lauren, Sean and Mary Kelly at Sean Kelly Gallery in New York; Graham Wilson at Swivel; Manuela Paz and Christopher Paz-Rivera at Embajada; Yiyo Tirado from El Kilómetro in San Juan; Piero Atchugarry Gallery; Iliya Fridman from Fridman Gallery; and most recently Ron Mandos Gallery.
Still, their relationships with artists remain important, and many of their most meaningful acquisitions have come directly through recommendations from artists themselves, they acknowledge. “They’re the best advocates for one another, and we’re always curious to hear who they’re watching, collecting and championing,” they notice.
As the couple prepares for their next life and collection chapter, they remain attentive to what’s happening in Puerto Rico, Mexico City and Uruguay, and try to visit every art fair they can. “You really do have to see everything, that’s how you sharpen your eye,” they acknowledge. “Our curiosity is constant, and our learning comes from all angles: studio visits, curator conversations, dinners, deep hangs.”
For Padilla and Trice, collecting is about so much more than transactions. It’s about proximity, relationships and reciprocity. “We’re not just acquiring works, we’re investing in people,” they say. This is something that will guide their next path as collectors, as they plan to settle in Uruguay and launch a residency program—with much more space for art, artists, meaningful encounters and generative exchanges of perspectives and backgrounds, like those that brought this passionate collection together, starting with their own couple. “When we connect to an artist’s story, practice and presence, it changes how we live with the work and it becomes part of how we move through the world.”
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