Reid Miles, Solomon Ilori

This morning during an interview, I was asked, “Where do you find inspiration?” This is a common question, and I understand the curiosity, but it’s complicated. Like every other creative person, I’m inspired by a million tiny details every day. I know the correct answer is, “Well, I just can’t get enough of Alvin Lustig.” That doesn’t work for me. Not that I don’t love Lustig, but there are too many other influences daily.

My mind works much like the dog in Up. I’ll be choosing blue Pantone colors and then, “Squirrel,” I’m doing something else. Today while looking at blue PMS chips, I thought, “Blue Note,” and found myself reading the Blue Note Album Cover Art book. I’d forgotten how truly incredible every cover is. Reid Miles was the in-house designer at Blue Note and designed most of the covers. From 1955 to 1967, he combined minimal abstract forms with an intense color sensibility. While Miles is often associated with Bauhaus rigor, his covers are more closely related to Color Field and Minimalist artists such as Ellsworth Kelly. I often tell people that “cool” is a terrible trap leading to desperate work and endless suffering. I admit, however, that Miles’ covers are cool—the good kind of cool.

not Cicely, but another relative, Lady Susannah Beverley Randolph

The women on my mother’s side of the family have always been attractive. This comes with a price (sanity). There is a long-standing tradition that a distant grandmother brought flirting to the New World. As it turns out, this story was correct. Cecily Reynolds came to Jamestown in 1610 aboard the Swan. Her uncle Captain William Pierce, with his wife Joan, served as chaperon on her voyage. At the age of 14, Cicely married Thomas Bailey. Unfortunately he soon dropped dead from malaria. She then quickly married Samuel Jordan.

The Jordans neighbors were John Rolfe, who had married Matoaka Pocahontas Powhatan. After her death, Rolfe married Capt. William Pierce’s daughter, Jane Pierce.

Cicely survived the Jamestown Massacre in 1622 by, as the story goes, standing firmly at her front door and refusing to move. The Powhatan Indians were impressed with her fortitude and beauty and let her live. That story seems a little far-fetched, but who knows? Soon after the Massacre, Samuel Jordan dropped dead, too. Now, this may seem too coincidental. One husband after another dies suddenly. Marrying Cicely may have seemed like a death sentence. But, in Jamestown death was common.

Within three or four days of Samuel Jordan’s death, Cicely agreed to become the wife of Rev. Greville Pooley. She was pregnant with Samuel Jordan’s child, so she asked that the engagement be kept secret. However, Rev. Pooley was so impressed that he had won Cicely’s hand that he spread the word. Not a good move, now a furious Cicely refused to go through with the wedding. Rev. Pooley sought to hold her to her promise. William Farrar, the administrator of her late husband’s estate defended her, causing the first breach of promise suit in America. Farrar then became husband three.

They were married for 10 years, and then in 1634, Farrar, surprisingly, died too.

Cicely Reynolds Bailey Jordan Farrar then married my distant grandfather, Peter Montague. Peter came to Jamestown in 1621 aboard the “Charles” at the age of 18. Peter and Cicely had seven children including Mary Montague, George Washington’s grandmother. This marriage lasted for 25 years until Peter Montague died in 1660.

Finally, at 59, Cicely Reynolds Bailey Jordan Farrar Montague married husband five, Thomas Parker. There were no children from this marriage, and Parker died three years later. Unfortunately, as was the case with many women, after this we lose records on Cicely. As a member of my mother’s family, I can surmise that, at this point, she had thick wavy white hair, a wry and dark sense of humor, and perfect grace.

1957 Jamestown Festival booklet

1622 Jamestown Massacre

The first Thanksgiving, Jametsown, yes, that's right

Jordan's Journey marker

Peter Montague grave

In honor of Bastille Day, I am posting scenes from the incredible film, Playtime, directed by Jacques Tati. Tati’s Monsieur Hulot films have a running theme of cold modernism and urbanity interrupted by human nature. I’ve never particularly understood the Playtime’s plot. It’s in French, so that’s an issue for me. But, nothing seems to happen. Monsieur Hulot is put in a series of funny situations and the sets are wonderful. I know they are supposed to be cold and sterile. They represent the decay of true non-conformity and human creativity. I, however, love them. So much glass, steel, and modern devices can only be good for people.

Norman Rockwell, The Problem We All Live With

It’s not considered hip to like Norman Rockwell. But, fortunately, I gave up on the hip idea a long time ago (hence the madras shirts and khakis I wear). Last term, I suggested that one of my students look at the Norman Rockwell Four Freedoms. I was met with a blank stare, as if I’d suggested researching an obscure 14^th century painter. This was a terrifying moment. People’s grandmothers like Norman Rockwell. I assumed everyone in the civilized world knew at least a few paintings. I was wrong, and that is the tragedy of today’s wayward youth. They all need a good dose of Rockwell’s wholesome small town. That would keep them away from the constant huffing.

Obviously, this world is a mythical place sort of like Pleasantville. Rockwell’s paintings go beyond the sentimental. They carry symbols and iconography that allow us to manufacture a clear narrative. It is not just a picture of the teacher’s birthday. The scene is set with a multitude of clues. The coat in her hand and chalk eraser on the floor communicates her surprise. A line of small gifts is on her desk. Each of these tells a story of the children preparing for this day at home, or on the walk to school. Even the tiny section of the American flag sets the scene in a minimal way.

The Problem We All Live With, painted in 1964, depicts Ruby Bridges walking to the newly integrated Frantz Elementary School in New Orleans. It is the most requested piece at the Norman Rockwell Museum. This incredible painting succeeds with the use of a tool I often discuss, seduction. The unassuming and innocent approach welcomes the viewer into the piece, and then communicates a complicated and disturbing subject matter. The racial slurs on the wall, and thrown tomato contrast with the girl’s white dress and confident stride. The touch of a notebook with stars and the red and blue pencils suggests the American flag subtly. This is not sentimental, or purely journalistic. Rockwell was a genius at utilizing symbols, color, and scene to convey a narrative in a single moment.

Norman Rockwell, New Day in the Neighborhood

Norman Rockwell, Teacher's Birthday

Norman Rockwell, The Connoisseur

Norman Rockwell, Freedom from Want

Norman Rockwell, Sunday Morning

The only surviving image of Dr. Thomas Walker, Virginia Historical Society

Since it’s almost Independence Day, I decided to post about someone in my family who was involved with the revolution. Sure, there are the likely suspects: George Washington, John Adams, and Thomas Jefferson. And, they are indeed family members on either my mother of father’s side. But we all know those stories. One of my favorite distant grandfathers wasn’t as well known as the these others. Dr. Thomas Walker was born in 1715. He was Thomas Jefferson’s guardian, the first white man to explore Kentucky, and did a whole batch of impressive things.

But I like him because he risked everything for the revolution. By 1776, Dr. Walker was 61 years old and one of the wealthiest men in Virginia. He wasn’t a destitute revolutionary; he was firmly set as a member of the gentry. It would be as if a comfortable CEO of a Fortune 500 company decided to join a revolution today. Typically comfortable old white guys don’t do this. There is also an old family tale that is probably stretched, but who knows.

In 1781, British Colonel Banastre Tarleton marched on Charlottesville with the intent to capture then Governor, Thomas Jefferson. When the British Army reached the family estate, Castle Hill, my distant grandmother and Dr. Walker delayed them by preparing a fine breakfast. Legend has it they also supplied liquor. This gave the patriot Jack Jouett time to warn Governor Thomas Jefferson and the Virginia legislators of Tarleton’s plan to capture them, and they escaped.

Just after the American Revolution, a traveling author visited Castle Hill and wrote an account of his interview with Dr. Thomas Walker:

“One day, in a chat, while each was delivering his sentiments of what would be the state of America a century hence, the old man [Walker], with great fire and spirit, declared his opinion that, ‘The Americans would then reverence the resolution of their forefathers, and would eagerly impress an adequate idea of the sacred value of freedom in the minds of their children, that if, in any future ages they should be again called forth to revenge public injuries, to secure that freedom, they should adopt the same measures that secured it to their brave ancestors.’”

— Thomas Anbury (Travels Through the Interior Parts of America, 1776-1781)

Joe Orton, photograph, Lewis Morley, 1965

There are certain phrases that you hear, and they are with you forever. I have the standard uplifting phrases such as, “Walk on with hope in your heart,” or “Hard work and suffering will get you closer to God.” I also have the remnants that pop in for a visit once in awhile. For no apparent reason, I will be shown something, and I immediately hear, “And to be told that such a disgusting piece of filth now passes for humour!” I also hear, “My stomach really turned at what I saw when I opened the tin.” This is useful for any unsavory dining experience.

These phrases are taken from Joe Orton’s Edna Welthorpe letters. Edna, and other fictional characters were created by Orton to write complaint letters. Edna wrote about bad pie filling, or engaged in an ongoing argument with a catalogue company. Other characters wrote letters to the theater showing Orton’s plays to complain about the low morals. I often wonder what I would do if I didn’t work. I can tell you that I would definitely make it a point to write a complaint letter every day. It would be fun.

Edna Welthorpe letter

15th November 1958.

Dear Sirs,

I am puzzled by several letters I have received from you. Apparently you are under the impression that I am organising something for you, or at least that someone in this flat is. I assure you that there is no one called Mr Orton living here. I am a widow and dwell alone. 
You state that catalogues are expensive. I have no doubt that they are, but what, may I ask, has that to do with me. You surely cannot imagine that I have stolen your catalogue. And as for selling anything which your firm makes … Please believe me if I arrived at the New Acol Bridge Club with a catalogue under my arm and explained to my friends that all goods were at cash prices, yet payable by small weekly installments, why I think they would laugh at me. 
Will you please stop sending letters to me, or I shall seriously have to consider putting the affair into the hands of my solicitor.

Yours faithfully,

Edna Welthorpe. (Mrs)

30th April 1965

Flat 4,
25, Noel Road, 
London, N.1

Dear Sir,

I recently purchased a tin of Morton’s blackcurrant pie filling. It was delicious. Choc-full of rich fruit. Then, wishing to try another variety, I came upon Smedley’s raspberry pie filling. And I tried that. And really! How can you call such stuff pie filling? There wasn’t a raspberry in it. I was very disappointed after trying Morton’s blackcurrant.

Please try to do better in future. And what on earth is `EDIBLE STARCH’ and ‘LOCUST BEAN GUM’? If that is what you put into your pie fillings I’m not surprised at the result.

I shan’t try any more of your pie fillings until the fruit content is considerably higher. My stomach really turned at what I saw when I opened the tin.

Yours sincerely,

Edna Welthorpe (Mrs)

Sir

In finding so much to praise in ‘Entertaining Mr. Sloane,’ which seems to be nothing more than a highly sensationalized, lurid, crude and over-dramatised picture of life at its lowest, surely your dramatic critic has taken leave of his senses.

The effect this nauseating work had on me was to make we want to fill my lungs with some fresh, wholesome Leicester Square air. A distinguished critic, if I quote him correctly, felt the sensation of snakes crawling around his ankles while watching it.

Yours truly,

Peter Pinnell

Sir

As a playgoer of forty years standing, may I say that I heartily agree with Peter Pinnell in his condemnation of ‘Entertaining Mr Sloane’. I myself was nauseated by this endless parade of mental and physical perversion. And to be told that such a disgusting piece of filth now passes for humour! Today’s young playwrights take it upon themselves to flaunt their contempt for ordinary decent people. I hope that the ordinary decent people of this country will shortly strike back!

Yours truly,

Edna Welthorpe (Mrs)

Sir

I was nauseated by this endless parade of mental and physical perversion. Today’s young playwrights take it upon themselves to flaunt their contempt for ordinary decent people.

Edna Welthorpe (Mrs)

Sir

I cannot recall a successful play – from, say, Othello to St Joan, from Tamburlaine to Look Back in Anger – which concerned itself with ‘ordinary decent people’! Ordinary, decent people are the salt of the earth and the backbone of the country but they do not make subjects for exciting, stimulating, controversial drama. John A Carlsen 
Sir – Mr Carlsen’s suggestion that Othello (the noble Moor!) and St Joan (belatedly canonised) are not decent people I find more than controversial. I find it completely unacceptable!

Jay Chakiris

Sir

Any oasis in the wasteland is welcome. And Entertaining Mr Sloane is not a mirage which disappears when the thirsty traveller approaches. If we find the customs of the country differ from our own – what else is foreign travel for?

Donald H Hartley

Sean Adams, Dana Arnett, Michael Vanderbyl, Regina, Gretchen, Karen, Mean Girls

Two years ago, Design Observer posted a very funny article, Fifteen Minutes of Fame. The point of the article was to imagine who would play whom if the graphic design industry were a movie. I was paired with Ryan Seacrest. I was hoping for George Clooney, but in all fairness, this is a pretty good match.

At a recent dinner, my good friend Pam Williams played a game where we went around the room and guessed what people were like in high school. This wasn’t about what they looked like, but was about their personality and which character they fit. For the past few weeks, I’ve been gathering suggestions from many of you, so here is the first batch. Apologies to anyone who feels that I’ve gotten it dead wrong, but it’s done with love. And you’ll notice I put myself in the spot that was suggested to me, not where I wanted to be (Jake in Sixteen Candles).

Now I’m going to risk offending my friends more than normal. I’ll start with people I know and can find a good match, and I’d be happy to hear any other suggestions. And remember, before calling me, stop, and calm down. Making angry calls never works.

Marian Bantjes, Marcia Brady, The Brady Bunch

Stephen Doyle, Cameron, Ferris Bueller's Day Off

John Bielenberg, Andrew, The Breakfast Club

Michael Bierut, Richie Cunningham, Happy Days

Stefan Bucher, Jake, Sixteen Candles

Brian Collins, Quinn, Glee

Margo Chase, Gidget, Gidget

Bart Crosby, Mr. Hand, Fast Times at Ridgemont High

Bill Drenttel, Velma, Scooby Doo

Marc English, Randy, Valley Girl

Carin Goldberg, Juno, Juno

Ric Grefé, Principal McGee, Grease

Jessica Helfand, Sandy, Grease

Stanley Hainsworth, Ferris Bueller, Ferris Bueller's Day Off

Steven Heller, Ferris Bueller, Ferris Bueller's Day Off

Alex Isley, Richie Cunningham, Happy Days

Kenna Kaye, Sandy, Grease

Chip Kidd, Rizzo, Grease

Ellen Lupton, Cathy Lane (the smart cousin), The Patty Duke Show

Jamey Koval, Andrew, The Breakfast Club

John Maeda, Kurt Russell, The Computer Who Wore Tennis Shoes

Abbott Miller, Brian, The Breakfast Club

Debbie Millman, Cher, Clueless

Clement Mok, Brian, The Breakfast Club

Jennifer Morla, Cher, Clueless

Noreen Morioka, Fonzie, Happy Days

Kali Nikitas, Allison, The Breakfast Club

Stefan Sagmeister, Danny, Grease

Louise Sandhaus, Pinkie, Grease

Carlos Segura, John, The Breakfast Club

Terry Stone, Principal McGee, Grease

Lucille Tenazas, Allison, The Breakfast Club

Rick Valicenti, Angela Chase, My So Called Life

James Victore, Jeff Spicolli, Fast Times at Ridgemont High

Armin Vit, Samantha, Sixteen Candles

Martin Venezky, John, The Breakfast Club

Brad Weed, Tom Chisum, Grease

Alissa walker, Sandy, Grease

Lorraine Wild, Buffy, Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Pam Williams, Elle Woods, Legally Blonde

Bert Clarke, The Thistle Golf Club

In 1986, I moved to New York and started my first job as a designer for The New York Public Library. This was a perfect fit. Book design was my first love. I was fortunate to work with two people who were masters of fine typography, Marilan Lund and William Coakley. In 1987, the Library held an exhibition on Bert (Bertram) Clarke. I knew Clarke as the designer at A. Colish in Mount Vernon, New York. There is nothing flashy in his books. The beauty is in the fine detail.

Centered typography can easily end up looking like a thermometer. I recall Marilan Lund telling me that a good symmetrical composition should be like a delicate but strong crystal chandelier. Clarke’s typeface choices are relevant to the material and always surprising. The typography on the title page for The Thistle Golf Club is not only regal, but echoes the form of a thistle. The heart dingbats for Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland are delightful and subtle. I love the treatment for the wonderful title, “A Few Rambling Remarks on Golf.” If you look closely, you can see the shape of a chandelier in all of these compositions.

There is a beautiful sense of accomplishment to groom text and focus on the most minute of typographic issues. On Star Trek Voyager, the Borg’s religion was perfection, and creating order from chaos. If only they had found Clarke’s books, they could have stopped their relentless path of galactic destruction. Hey, this might be nerdy, but you’ve got to give me props for mixing classical typography with the Borg.

Bert Clarke, The Papers of Ulysses S. Grant

Bert Clarke

Bert Clarke, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

Bert Clarke, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

Bert Clarke, A Few Rambling Remarks on Golf

Bert Clarke, Chapter The Third, The Wimblehurst Apprenticeship

One of our great mentors was Saul Bass. Saul was endlessly supportive and encouraging. Saul was the first phone call we received that first day at AdamsMorioka when the phones were turned on. Losing Saul was a huge loss that we still feel. After he passed away, The Academy held a memorial service at the Samuel Goldwyn Theater. Another memorial was held in New York. The New York memorial focused on Saul’s identity and graphic work. The Los Angeles memorial was about his title sequences. Seeing these on huge screen with incredible sound was life changing. I love showing my first term students some of Saul’s title sequences. They are inspired and awed, especially by the lack of CGI. It’s amazing what can be done with a few lines and some type.

One of the often-missed sequences is for Grand Prix. There is no flying type, no intense digital effects, and no techno music. Live action, some simple type, and genius editing make a dynamic introduction. The repeating images, repeated usage of circular forms, and sound of the race let us know the subject, tone, attitude, and pace of the film we are about to see. We’ve often said that our job is not to make lots of sweet frosting, but to make a solid cake. Grand Prix is this, the core of an idea expressed elegantly and minimally.

Yusaku Kamekura, Tokyo Olympics, 1964

Last week, we started working with a new client who demanded that Noreen be at every meeting. Now, I’m used to this. When I come into a meeting and throw a chair, or urinate in the corner, clients are disturbed. In reality, we’re both quite polite and friendly. The only time I ever became angry during a meeting was 15 years ago, when a young architect stopped me and said, “I’d like to give you some basic rules about composition.” To which, I replied, “I don’t know how to respond to that… Noreen?”

Initially, some clients do a little racial profiling. Noreen is Asian and a woman, so she must be mysterious, exotic, and deeply creative. I’m a WASP and a man, so I must be logical, dull, and handle the bookkeeping. At AdamsMorioka, our roles are well defined; Noreen is in charge of all client relations, I’m in charge of creative. This doesn’t mean that we don’t voice opinions, or have debates about creative or business issues. In the end, I have final call on a creative issue; Noreen has final call on a client issue.

We do, however, have divergent cultural backgrounds, and this makes the work better. We often design the poster when we do a speaking engagement. I’ve had the most fun designing posters that speak to this juxtaposition of Asian and Western influences. I designed a poster for a DSVC lecture takes one of my favorite posters by Yusaku Kamekura and re-purposes it. I know the difference between an homage and piracy. I credit Kamekura on the poster.

Yusaku Kamekura is one of the “first generation” of great Japanese designers. In 1951 he helped establish the Japan Advertising Arts Club, and took part in the ‘Graphic ’55’ exhibition with Paul Rand and other international designers. In 1978, he became chairman of the Japan Graphic Designers Association. This is a big deal. Noreen mentions often that she’d like to be invited by JAGDA to be a member (note to JGDA members reading this). His posters merge Swiss modernism with a Japanese aesthetic and usage of space. The primary 1964 Tokyo Olympics poster is magnificent in its simplicity.  Kamekura uses the golden section and repeating circles to create harmony. On the surface, nothing could be more obvious: Japanese flag and Olympic rings. “And?” you may be asking, “So what? That’s too easy.” This is similar to someone looking at a Picasso and saying, “I could have drawn that.”  My response, “But you didn’t.”

AdamsMorioka, DSVC, 2001

Yusaku Kamekura, Tokyo Olympics, 1964

Yusaku Kamekura, Tokyo Olympics, 1964

Yusaku Kamekura, Nikon Mikron Binoculars, 1955

Yusaku Kamekura, Graphic ‘55 Exhibition, 1955

Yusaku Kamekura, Nikon SP, 1957

Yusaku Kamekura, Atomic Energy for Peaceful Industry, 1956