Private collectors are the foundation of our public art museums and the principal (sometimes only) source of recognition for the contemporary artist. The art of collecting art was the strict prerogative of nobility and the church until a powerful and wealthy middle class emerged in the 17th century Netherlands. The creation of wealth through banking and trade, coupled with an increasingly secular society, created unprecedented opportunities for artists. They were no longer dependent on specific commissions, and could invent paintings and sculptures for their own satisfaction.

But independence from the palace and the church meant the artist had to develop diplomacy and salesmanship to secure buyers. The galleries we take for granted today grew to fill that role, bringing the collector the fruits of artists' studios at the end of the 19th century.

Wierzbowski Gallery makes a point of that delicate balance with the exhibition Affinity and Admiration. It was curated by seven Houston collectors, each of whom chose the work of an artist he or she collects. The intriguing idea aims to celebrate the individual patron yet at the same time, it satisfies viewers natural curiosity about who stands behind the red dots that signify a work has sold.

The collectors and the artists are: William Hill, a painting by Christina Karll; Alton and Emily Steiner, a painting by Joe Mancuso; Doreen and Daniel Wainberg, painting by Michael Maezell and sculpture by McKay Otto; Earl D. Weed, two works on paper by Melissa La Rose and a painting by Marc Wiegand; Frank Herzog, a Josef Albers, Homage to the Square; Robert Greenstein, three works on paper by Vikki J. Martin; and Jay Branson, a large mixed media by Joe Allen and two photographs by Patty Wood.

With the exception of the classic Homage to the Square, the works are by contemporary artists, the majority from Houston.

One anticipates revelations about the individual buyers, yet in that respect, Affinity and Admiration disappoints. There's insufficient work here, and the collectors' accompanying statements are stiff where one might expect - hope for - passion, or humor, or absolute conviction.

Still, the work hangs well as a group exhibition. Abstract in essence and robust in appearance, the selection ranges from Mancuso's elegant minimalist painting of transparent white surfaces to the machinelike assemblage by Otto.

Karll's distilled forest view, rendered in thin, overlapping veils of greens and ochres, evinces a sensuality for paint. Evocations of vegetation frame and glowing center that appears empty at first but gradually seems to fill with shimmering light.

Maezell's acrylic has an oddly dated look about it, like a work out of 1950's New York - a Franz Kline exercise, perhaps. It's gleaming white with rough, black circular shapes that cross, dive under or jump over crusted textures. The result is surprisingly dynamic.

Martin's three drawings in pencil and acrylic hark to illustrations of the 16th - 19th centuries. In one, she emulates the meticulous description of observed reality, with Leonardo's medical notations as paradigm. In another, she renders carved Hindu frieze in the manner of 18th century European travel diaries. She thwarts the merely copyist nature of the work, however, by inserting unexpected elements. A skeleton, for instance, sprouts the branch of a fruit tree from its spinal cord, and an erotic Indian frieze is countered by a brilliantly colored description of an ear of corn.

What, if anything, it all means is not clear, but it's nice to see the craftsmanship.