Whataburger Museum of Art Shares Whataburger Fan Art on Instagram

Picasso had his blue period. Mondrian used every primary color. Perhaps the next great art master will channel orange and white like only a Texan can.

This is the feeling you get while scrolling through the Whataburger Museum of Art. Calling most of the pieces featured on the Instagram account “fan art” feels inadequate. There’s polish in these pixels, whether they’re paintings, photographs, sculptures, or something weirder. Take Houston artist Max Guarnaccia’s oil painting titled Whataburger Bag, using light and shadows worthy of any still-life exhibition. Or consider Patrick Pardee’s Dali-esque Whata No. 22, a melting marvel created with a table tent, resin, and acrylic paint.

Despite the name, the Whataburger Museum of Art is not a physical institution like the Whitney or the Guggenheim — yet. The social media feed curated by the popular fast-food company harnesses the kind of brand loyalty money can’t buy and celebrates the power of creativity. And hunger.

The account is the brainchild of the Texas-based chain and its partners at Austin creative agency McGarrah Jessee. Alissa Randolph, the senior manager of brand communication and social experience at Whataburger, says the company always had its eye on the art created by fans.

“A lot of people love Whataburger, and have made crazy, beautiful, amazing things that they’ve spent hours and hours working on,” says Randolph, who was also an art major. She remembers thinking, “Wouldn’t it be so cool if we brought all of these into a space and had an actual Whataburger Museum of Art?”

By the end of 2019, Whataburger was ready to make it happen in real life, but the coronavirus pandemic squashed the potential of the in-person experience. The company pivoted and created the Instagram account. The digital gallery launched in the summer of 2021. Tess Cullers, brand director at McGarrah Jessee, says that most of the art comes from submissions, where people tag the account on their own works.

But not every piece in the virtual museum is picked up from the digital aether. Randolph says that Whataburger started commissioning works, especially around national heritage months. “We really wanted to start to use the platform to focus and amplify voices,” she says.

Whataburger commissioned one of its most imaginative works from Atlanta nail artist Rachel Odom, as part of Black History Month. The photograph shows a pair of hands wearing press-on nails she customized with familiar imagery: the black-and-white spicy ketchup packet label with spurts of red condiment and tiny yellow fries; and colorful stickers reading “no onion” or “jalapeño,” similar to the ones placed on burger orders.

“It is so cool to me that my work can truly be viewed as art, because I definitely view it as that,” Odom tells Eater Austin. “It is definitely more than nails to me. So I am loving that my work is getting exposure in different areas.”

The Instagram feed also features videos where artists talk about creating their works. “The commissions allow us to get really close to the artist,” Cullers says. “There’s depth there. We’re able to interview them and understand the ‘why.’”

Cullers says the account is committed to reflecting the broad art scope, including painting, sculpture, photography, and more unconventional mediums. Visitors can find a chair, a hat, and a purse on the feed. Brittney Boyd Bullock, a textiles professor at the University of Memphis, created the fiber art piece Playhouse, with orange-and-white woven yarn creating an evocative array of stripes and tassels.

Bullock explains how Whataburger gave her artistic autonomy, as she explains in a video on the feed. “Art can act as a conduit, an advocate. It could bring healing. It could invite conversation. It could be the glue to so many different things,” she says.

Few Texas businesses are as synonymous with the state’s cultural identity.“There’s so much [meaning] around gathering when you’re eating a meal, or you’re going after a special occasion. Whataburger has that place in a lot of people’s hearts and minds,” Cullers says.

Randolph thinks this nostalgia inspires a lot of the art they receive. “Since we first opened in 1950, that iconic orange-and-white stripe has been there,” she says. “And then, I think people really love the food.”

And it’s not lost on Randolph that the Whataburger Museum of Art represents that special connection between a company and its customers. “A lot of brands might say ‘cease and desist,’” she says of the artwork. “I think it’s just incredible that, as a brand, we’ve decided to embrace and say ‘persist.’”

The Whataburger Museum of Art may be a marketing play, but its founders also hope it starts bigger conversations. “I think art is something that sometimes feels inaccessible to people,” Randolph says. “Showing how it’s made, and letting the artists divulge the meaning through the action — the expression allows us to make things more accessible.”

It was important that the museum boosts the featured artists, too. Art is a hard field to work in, Randolph says, and she hopes giving these creators digital space will help them bring their own customers through the metaphorical door. “We can’t all fully make a living doing what we love, and so I love that,” she says. “We’re helping artists in that way, too.”

The art might yet break out of your phone screen. Randolph says Whataburger is currently exploring the possibilities of an in-person exhibition. “We’re hoping there’s some sort of physical manifestation kicking off next year,” she says.

“How did we get so lucky as a brand that people love us so much?” Randolph says. “There’s a lot of responsibility in that.” So go ahead and create your own Whataburger work of art — perhaps a papier-mâché honey butter chicken biscuit?