As a designer and strategist who thrives on brand reinvention, I have to confess, the latest identity work for the Philadelphia Art Museum (formerly the Philadelphia Museum of Art) is, frankly, one of the more compelling museum rebrands we’ve seen. Yes, it’s bold. Yes, some of the reactions have been outrage. And yes, the fact that the CEO was just fired adds a bitter aftertaste. But on the brand front, I’ll argue: it works.
The museum has dropped the “of” and now goes by Philadelphia Art Museum (or “PhAM” for short). At first glance, it might feel like a small, unnecessary word trim, but in branding terms it signals a shift: the city’s name comes first, the institution becomes more approachable and less ponderous. The …
As a designer and strategist who thrives on brand reinvention, I have to confess, the latest identity work for the Philadelphia Art Museum (formerly the Philadelphia Museum of Art) is, frankly, one of the more compelling museum rebrands we’ve seen. Yes, it’s bold. Yes, some of the reactions have been outrage. And yes, the fact that the CEO was just fired adds a bitter aftertaste. But on the brand front, I’ll argue: it works.
The museum has dropped the “of” and now goes by Philadelphia Art Museum (or “PhAM” for short). At first glance, it might feel like a small, unnecessary word trim, but in branding terms it signals a shift: the city’s name comes first, the institution becomes more approachable and less ponderous. The badge — a circular griffin motif redrawn from the museum’s 1938 mark — has the kind of swagger you don’t often see in fine-arts branding. The griffin is rooted in the museum’s architecture and history, yet built to live on facades, social feeds, wayfinding, and merch. The custom typeface, Fairmount Serif, nods to Philadelphia’s industrial and typographic DNA while providing a visual backbone for a system that flexes across motion, digital, and print. The old 2014 identity (yes, the one by Pentagram with the modular “A for Art”) served its era, but in retrospect, it feels generic and weaker on the “Philadelphia” part of the story. This new system reverses that.
A museum that has long stood as a fortress of culture is finally speaking in a tone that can be heard beyond its marble steps.

Fairmount Serif isn’t just a lovely font; it’s a love letter to Philadelphia. Inspired by Hess Neobold, a 1920s type by Philadelphia-born typeface designer Sol Hess, Fairmount Serif fuses industrial utility with crafted warmth. Developed in collaboration with typographer Ryan Bugden, the custom typeface pays homage to the city’s design heritage while grounding the museum’s new identity in both history and modernity.

Fairmount’s sculpted serifs reference the carved stone signage and cast-metal plaques found across the city, while its rhythm and proportions nod to the grit and geometry of Philly’s industrial past. The type choice is both functional and emotional, sturdy enough for wayfinding and nuanced enough for exhibition titles. And when you zoom out, that’s where the system sings: the interplay between Fairmount Serif’s weight and the supporting type creates a visual field that feels both modern and monumental. From afar, the typography behaves like architecture; blocky, proud, unmistakably urban. Up close, it reveals delicate curves and humanist tension, echoing the duality of the museum itself: civic landmark and cultural sanctuary.

What’s particularly smart is how the typography scales. It’s the kind of system that doesn’t crumble under motion or media; it flexes. In a cultural landscape where many museums default to minimalist sans serifs to telegraph “modernity,” PhAM’s typographic palette stands out precisely because it dares to.

And that’s what makes the backlash so ironic. Critics calling the design “too aggressive” or “too corporate” miss the point: this isn’t aggression, it’s assertion. A museum that has long stood as a fortress of culture is finally speaking in a tone that can be heard beyond its marble steps. The typography becomes the connective tissue between legacy and immediacy, proof that heritage and boldness aren’t opposites; they’re partners.
Successful rebrands don’t just unveil; they educate. Bringing the public along for the journey ensures they’re in your corner when the new identity finally debuts.
That’s the brilliance here. The typography system doesn’t just say “Philadelphia”; it feels like it — resilient, grounded, muscular. Where many cultural institutions opt for neutrality, PhAM dares to own its physicality. It knows what it is.
Still, why all the uproar? Three principal complaints stand out. First, the museum didn’t hire a local agency. For a civic institution tied to its city’s identity, that raises alarms in a place like Philly. Second, the name change is “unnecessary.” Many argued “Philadelphia Museum of Art” already worked; why mess with that? Third, the new branding feels too aggressive for an art museum — a griffin badge, heavyweight type, and Instagram-friendly merch — does that cheapen the institution’s gravitas?
I’d argue those sentiments are largely outdated or misdirected; knee-jerk reactions from keyboard warriors unfamiliar with the history or strategy behind the work. That disconnect, however, may point to a flaw in the launch itself. Successful rebrands don’t just unveil; they educate. Bringing the public along for the journey ensures they’re in your corner when the new identity finally debuts.
The world has changed: museums are fighting for attention, relevance, younger posters, and social engagement. If your brand only works on a brochure in a donor’s hand, you’re already behind. The local-agency gripe matters to civic politics and optics, but if the chosen partner (in this case, award-winning design agency Gretel) delivered something deeply attuned to the city’s story, the “hire local” argument weakens. The “name change unnecessary” push is understandable, but it ignores that brands evolve. Meeting the community in the way it already talks (“the art museum in Philly”) lowers friction. And the “too aggressive” critique? That ignores the architecture of scale where today, identity systems must stretch from façade to favicon. A design that looks too quiet at 48px in a feed will fail.
Gretel and their collaborators have built a system that reads strongly from every angle, an identity that, even at a glance, communicates what every museum should aspire to: not just preservation of art, but participation in culture.

So far, so good. But, and this is the messy part, the museum’s CEO, Sasha Suda, was terminated by the board via email for “cause.” The timing is especially awkward: she oversaw the rebrand that launches this new identity, and now she’s gone. The optics are terrible. It raises questions about governance, clarity of mission, and whether the board is really aligned with the brand vision it commissioned. Because a brand is culture, and culture leaks. If leadership churns, the risk is that the brand becomes a graphic veneer rather than a lived truth.
The rebrand is strong, in my opinion, but the leadership turbulence casts a long shadow. If you build a visual system that says, “We’re bold, we’re civic, we’re rooted in Philly,” then you need the institution to act the part with programming, community access, transparency, board and staff alignment. Without that, you risk the identity becoming a billboard for something hollow. In other words, the griffin may look great, but if the board is firing the CEO seconds after launch, it undercuts confidence.
Photos by Rob Cusick.
In the end, I believe this rebrand positions the museum into the present age with clarity and conviction. It repositions the brand for digital, for younger audiences, for the city’s narrative. But only if the rest of the institution backs it up. If the museum’s culture, leadership, and community feel weak or misaligned, the visual system becomes a fast-moving juggernaut without traction. Brand culture must follow brand visuals. And that, in Philadelphia right now, is the real test.
Brand Imagery courtesy of the Philadelphia Art Museum and Gretel. Photos by Rob Cusick.