Our cool and hip nude poster

Every once in awhile, I get a hankerin’ to be taken seriously. I’ll see a critical theory article that deconstructs one of my friends’ work and think, “Maybe I should be doing that kind of work.” Envy is a terrible and pointless emotion. But then, I remember our mission. When we started AdamsMorioka in 1993, we wanted to go the opposite direction. There was so much desperate work then that screamed, “I’m serious! I have no sense of humor. I am only intendsed to be understood by a select group of intellectual theorists.” Noreen and I wanted to be the Beach Boys, not Bauhaus (the band), Rodgers and Hammerstein, not Karen Finley Tracy and Hepburn, not Lenya and Weill, or Steven Speilberg, not Luis Buñuel. This doesn’t mean we’re anti-intellectual, or don’t admire artists who push limits. We love things that are way out of the park. And we refuse to deny anyone the right to create whatever they desire. So,what does this mean?

Ed Fella said it best when he called our work American Pragmatism. It’s about being plain spoken and honest, not fancy and oblique. Maybe it’s because we’re both from the West and can’t think differently. We’re interested in speaking to the broadest audience possible, making life a little better for them, and treating every other designer with respect and dignity. We aren’t interested in excluding or demonizing others because they do work unlike ours. Everyone deserves to be celebrated and revered.

Now the funny part of this is that we both came out of a deeply theoretical education at CalArts. We can subvert, deconstruct, and pastiche with the best of them, but we do it with stealth. As long as the form is seductive, appealing, and aesthetic, we can pour in as much meaning  or contradiction as needed. But, we’re human. When someone at a conference says, “You’re so funny. Everything you do is so cute.” This feels minimizing and I’m tempted to do that oblique and complex poster of Noreen and I in the nude that nobody understands. Then I remember why we like plain and honest, something that has optimism and joy. So I leave you with these sentiments:

“Good judgment comes from experience, and a lot of that comes from bad judgment.” — Will Rogers

 “The world belongs to you as much as the next fellow. Don’t give it up.” — Rodgers and Hammerstein

 “T-shirts, cut-offs, and a pair of thongs. We’ve been having fun all summer long.” — Beach Boys

 “ET phone home.” —Steven Spielberg

Beach Boys: yes

Karen Finley, not so much like us

Rodgers and Hammerstein: we like

Bauhaus: we loved them in the 80s, but not really us

Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn: more like us

Lotte Lenya and Kurt Weill, cool, but not AM

Steven Spielberg (Empire of the Sun): optimistic and friendly

Luis Buñuel, Un Chien Andalou, slicing eyes isn't our thing

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Judith Anderson as Mrs. Danvers in Rebecca

I’ve often been called uptight. I would tend to agree. I understand uptight people in movies. Everyone else thinks they’re the villain, emotionally rigid, or deranged. They just seem sensible to me. This comes, no doubt from a long line of, as Noreen calls them, “Uptight white people.” There are times, however, when the uptight problem turns into a self-abuse spiral. When I go to a speaking engagement, party, or conference, I spend the following day pondering what I may have done that was offensive. I typically have two primary offenses (there are probably many more, but I can only manage two).

First, I meet people who I have met before, but don’t recall them. I’m always careful to introduce myself, even if I’ve just been onstage, and say something such as, “It’s nice to see you, I’m Sean,” or “I’m so glad you’re here tonight.” Most people go with the flow and manage a pleasant conversation. Of course, once in awhile somebody challenges me, “You don’t know who I am, do you?” I know I’ve offended them, but the problem isn’t that they aren’t important, it’s that I can’t remember my own family member’s names.

My other problem is turning my back on somebody. I’ll be carrying on a conversation, and in the middle be interrupted by someone else, usually by yanking on my collar. I’ll turn to acknowledge them, and then, the other party feels that I have simply become bored and turned away. Once again, it’s a brain problem. I have a true talent for deep focus on one subject, but I can’t juggle more than one conversation. So, if I have turned my back on you, it is a reflection of my growing senility, not your company.

I was taught a few simple rules by my grandmother who seemed to live only to practice correct manners.

1. No one ever wants to hear, “I know your face, but who are you?” If you can’t recall someone, the best approach is to say something harmless, “That is a really fantastic tie.” Hopefully, he or she will say something to trigger your memory.

2. Alternatively, no one wants to be accused, “You don’t remember me. Do you?” Instead, if you see someone out of context, or haven’t seen him or her for some time, provide some information, “Jane, it’s so good to see you. I’m Peter Meriwether. We met at Alice Thornton’s club.”

3. Never provide unsolicited advice. It is rarely if ever wanted, even by hyperactive attention seeking children.  It is one thing to lean in quietly and say, “Jack, you might want to check your trousers’ zipper.” This is helpful and a friend will always appreciate the heads up. It is quite another to say, “Thomas, your family may have been in politics for generations, but let me give you some tips on the correct way to campaign.” This type of advice only reads as bitter, condescending, and unpleasant, regardless of the intent.

4. When the conversation dips, these are three comments to move it along: “Tell me about your garden. I hear it’s incredible,” “Now, what brought you to Darien (or wherever you are),” and “Would you consider your taste to be traditional or contemporary?” These are all safe subjects and give a platform for conversation. “Did you know your hair is thinning?” is really wrong.

Bette Davis as the dowdy spinster aunt in Now Voyager

Gladys Cooper as the mean WASP in Now Voyager

Mary Tyler Moore in Ordinary People

Everyone in The Age of Innocence

Hugh Bonneville as the Earl of Grantham in Downton Abbey

Kate Hepburn as Tracy Lord in The Philadelphia Story

My Uptight White People

President John Quincy Adams, cranky looking

Reginald William Rives, 1890s

GGG Aunt Lucy Meriwether Lewis Marks

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