Show Up and Play

Paul Galloway: Norman, when we first started this project, what was your guiding idea for digging into the MoMA design collection?

Norman Teague: When I was at MoMA’s storage facility, seeing those iconic objects reminded me of how influential MoMA has been in crafting that narrative, particularly through its exhibitions, competitions, and industry partnerships. But what disturbed me was recognizing who and what was absent from that story. This realization made me question how many other voices, designs, and perspectives had been excluded.

Using Adobe’s Firefly AI to generate new visuals allowed me to push past the traditional value systems that institutions like MoMA have long upheld. Though significant, they often leave out key voices, and this project was a way for me to consider the what-ifs.

In the beginning, I grappled with ways in which I could hold space for both admiration and critique. That’s where the project’s tension and rich vibe lies. How do I acknowledge value while questioning the gray areas of modernism and the systems that elevated some to such prominence at the exclusion of others?

I wanted to dive into the collection and bring about a measure of randomness by stacking and piling collected objects that would disrupt the system. By allowing the viewers to see the works in a less curated way, it made them more ordinary. The juxtaposition would say, “Yes, these objects are important, but they aren’t the whole story.”

The exhibition’s juxtaposition of AI-generated images with objects from MoMA’s collection was intentional. It showed that these stories could have been told differently, and should be told differently moving forward. By creating full-scale prototypes alongside these images, I aimed to make the reimagination tangible, providing a platform for exposing the design process and steps that speak to the cooperative, slow, exploratory spirit we value in the studio. It’s a reminder that design is not just about objects; it’s about ideas, people, and the stories we choose to elevate.

I think that core idea is very clear in your exhibition. I’ve talked to other artists and designers, and there are long shadows cast by the Gerrit Rietvelds and Charles and Ray Eameses. As a designer, you can’t help but have them hovering over you. One of the things you’re doing in this exhibition is playing around with a canon. We’ve got Rietveld’s Red Blue Chair and Mies van der Rohe’s Barcelona Chair, which are in every art history book. But what are we missing as a museum when we stick to this canon?

I’m asking people to rethink and re-imagine whether the canon is fair, equitable, and representative of all. Each of the figures here has a foundation built around their legacy. Those foundations are a support system that places them in comfortable positions; for years to come, patrons, writers, gallerists, professors, and students will elevate them even further. This design ontology creates a clear Eurocentric branding. This exhibition is about highlighting what’s missing and advocating for a more expansive view of what deserves to be celebrated.

It’s been fascinating to watch you dig into ideas about human creativity and culture. Interestingly, one tool you’re using to do this is one of the most inhuman things we have, artificial intelligence. You and your team used Firefly, Adobe’s AI software, to create the posters and visualizations we’re seeing in the exhibition. Can you describe how you incorporate these programs into your process?

I was introduced to AI during the past year and a half. When I played with it, I looked for things that might provide insight into a future. And I wondered what it would look like if Black folks had been invited to America as the kings and queens we are.

I became enthused with hot-mixing the various manufacturing processes with moments in Black history, from the Harlem Renaissance to the Black Arts Movement. We were imagining John Coltrane and Mies Van der Rohe sitting around smoking cigars and cigarettes, and talking shit about jazzy architecture. Contemplating ragtime, we wondered what a chair might look like if George Clinton had been a furniture designer.

Firefly’s AI prompting process mirrors the improvisational nature of jazz, where one motif or note can be transformed and reinterpreted in countless ways. This part of the process was humorous and filled with nuance.

What impressed me was just how much human work went into this. The process was very laborious. You refined and refined and refined.

Our studio used prompts from long historical timelines of Black Power movements, craft traditions, manufacturing methods, and cultural events as prompts to guide final images. Some prompts we used included the handwoven textile and craft methods of African American artisans, and the organizational and political impact of the Black Panther era. Firefly generated thousands of images, each offering a unique take on these influences. The more difficult part was narrowing the results to a single one.

When I started to think about AI as a tool that we could use to look at the past and not to the future, it became such an approachable and human way to invigorate the imagination. If you really think about it, using AI in this way is like being a disc jockey. You’re mixing Patti LaBelle with A Tribe Called Quest, and you’re coming up with all this new shit. It’s like a remix.