Jonathan Adler on his inherited good taste
Jonathan Adler leaned back in the sofa he designed and looked out on his Houston store filled with his colorful, quirky things.
There’s a clear Lucite board in front of him, bearing neon orange and yellow chess pieces. All around are pillows, one with an embroidered face of Joan Crawford, plus lamps, vases and various objets d’art, all meant to add personality to someone’s home.
He started his adult years as a budding potter, despite the harsh words of a Rhode Island School of Design teacher who swore he’d never make it. But he did make it, and now has nearly 30 stores, including his West Ave store on Kirby that opened in 2013.
Adler’s style adds a glamorous touch and playful spirit to modern and midcentury design. During his recent visit he talked about his grandmother, his guiding principles and the things that make his chakras tingle.
Q: How often do you get to Houston and what do you like to do when you’re here?
A: Not often enough. I should probably stop in at the Rothko Chapel more often for a bit of redemption and contemplation. The other place I should stop in is Kuhl-Linscomb, which is so remarkable. Those should be my two annual pilgrimages. Kuhl-Linscomb is a singular store; there’s no store like it in the world. And, of course, I come to see my store.
Q: What are you drawn to outside your own store?
A: It’s funny, when I make something, it’s the exact same thing as when I buy something. I’m looking for stuff that really will make my chakras tingle. I’m a visual thrill-seeker. I always say to myself, “If my grandmother owned this, and if she kicked the bucket, would I fight my siblings over it?” That’s my guiding principle in terms of what I make and what I buy.
Q: So, your grandmother had great taste?
A: I was blessed to have a grandmother and parents with age-inappropriate, incredible taste. When my grandmother snuffed it, my brother and sister and I were literally fighting over her stuff. It was a revelatory moment for me because I thought, “I need to make the stuff that your heirs will fight over.” You want to make the stuff that, if your grandmother had this Lucite chess set and kicked the bucket, you’d be like, “I get the Lucite chess set.”
Q: Did her taste influence yours?
A: My grandmother had the most incredible taste. She was a world traveler and had this incredible ability to mix high and low, and she had an incredible sense of color. As much as I would like to claim to be a brilliant self-creation, I am not. I am a product of my parents and grandparents.
Q: What do you think your grandmother would want of the things in this store?
A: I think the vase with all of the breasts going around it. That would tingle her chakras. I’d like to think everything, as I look around and think about her house, I think, “Yeah, that would work.”
Q: Some of your designs are pretty out there. Has there ever been a concept or prototype that someone had to pull you back and say, “Um, Jonathan, not so much”?
A: I would say au contraire. It’s often the things that are the most personal and singular that do the best. I try really hard to never reign myself in. Ultimately, I want to make interesting, new and creative objets.
Q: Tell me about your designs in your own home. How often do you change things out?
A: I change it up constantly. My poor, long-suffering husband never knows what he’s going to come home to. I think he can be pretty much guaranteed that it’s going to change all of the time. It’s full of my own stuff, and I feel like it’s my responsibility as a designer to road-test all of my designs. To see how a chair feels and if a lamp lets off the right light.
Q: What are some of your favorite things?
A: I’m mad for all of my brass objets. (Picks up a brass bird bowl.) I was looking at this piece with my pottery assistant. I asked him why it works so well, and he said it looks like it’s supposed to be that way. That’s what I strive to do, is make things that look effortless, but the lines and details are completely resolved. This piece perfectly illustrates it. The way the line here comes down and gets narrower, then swells just so. Even the underside is just a perfect egg shape. I’m being immodest, but I think something like that just looks right.
Q: Do you have that piece in your home?
A: I do. I have it on my entry console, and I throw my keys in it so when I take the dog out for a poo I know where the keys are going to be.
I have to show you my dog. (Calls up photos on his phone.) You need to see Foxylady; you are literally going to die. She is 12 pounds of perfection. She’s great; she’s just a little lady.
Q: Are you going to start putting her face on pillows and things?
A: I do a lot of dog stuff, but I would never want to commercialize such a sacred relationship.
Q: What role does your husband, Simon Doonan, play in your designs or your company?
A: Simon, my husband, is a fashion dude. He’s interested as a muse-spectator. We speak the same language, but he’s not really involved in the biz.
Q: I know you like to be irreverent and funny, but you also speak with sincerity about craftspeople and artisans today. How do you help other artists?
A: I’m always here to give advice to people, but one of the best things that ever happened to me was being unmentored and unmoored and having to sink or swim. I guess it’s probably not the right answer. The only good advice I’ve ever gotten was from my husband, who said, “Always show up 10 minutes early.” There’s power in being early to places; it’s a nice move.
Q: What’s coming next, or what’s new in your work?
A: I’ll tell you something that’s new and cool. I just did my first public art piece; it’s a 7-foot-tall bronze banana sculpture that is at The Parker hotel in Palm Springs (Calif.). Each peel is a seat. There are a lot of ways to make a giant banana sculpture, but I think the only way to make it count is beautifully crafted and with impeccable materials. It shows that good craftsmanship can make any idea sublime. Deep thoughts from a shallow potter.