Jonathan Adler’s Glorious Things
CultureWag loves nothing more than to tap a creative genius for 3 gifts from the Muses. How delighted we are to have the wisdom of Maestro Jonathan Adler, potter, designer, and sensei of the sublime. These are gifts that must be shared, and our Jonathan has teamed with Wondrium to teach a new course, Decorate Like a Designer, which will have you feathering your nest like a pro. Surround yourself with beautiful things and witty people, and Adlertopia will open its doors to you. And now, a few of his inspirations:
I hope he’s not reading this, but: my husband, Simon Doonan. He packs an outsized work ethic into diminutive packaging. I can’t even manage to draft an email, and he’s a super talented writer (I really, really hope he’s not reading this) who cranks out book after book. His latest is out this November. His scribblings—and his sartorial concoctions—are a constant delight.
The Broken Kilometer, Walter De Maria’s permanent art installation in Soho, is not only a current inspiration, it’s a constant inspiration. In the 90s, after college, when I moved to New York, The Broken Kilometer was my temple. A spare loft, row after row of perfectly spaced brass rods, never moving, weirdly empty, fascinating, serene, compelling, incomprehensible. Atelier Adler—our just-opened creative studio and shop on West Broadway—is auspiciously located across the street from the installation. I love it so much, that I designed the lighting at the Atelier’s in-house design studio to recall the Broken Kilometer.
Mother Nature is the best designer, and I’m always in awe of her work. I’m currently at our house on Shelter Island, and as I speak, I’m staring at a bald eagle perched on our oak tree. Last night’s sunset was a technicolor fantasy. The clouds were bright pink, the sea was bright blue, and a white egret flew by. I often hop on my paddle board and go out for a long aquatic adventure and just daydream. In fact, I was paddle boarding when I conceived of my Ether cloud sofa. I was staring at the fluffiest cloud imaginable, a real cloud’s cloud, and I just wanted to sink into it. I realized I needed to make a sofa that was as inviting and as dreamy as a cloud. SO, I guess what I’m saying is that a lot of my newest work is an homage to the floating hazy dreamscape of Mother Nature.
