Exit Interview
Erik Joule Looks Back
Before he came here he lived in Marin. On a property backed up against a state park. In a house dubbed
Rancho Nudo. With three beautiful women who had long cast off their clothes. There was no road to their hearth. The door was never locked.
His first night in Venice--a helicopter hovered over his barred window.
He hadn't wanted to come to LA. But the clothing company
Guess had recruited him, and then he stayed on to work for
QuikSilver as Senior Vice-President of Merchandising and Design and by the time Erik Joule left Venice--ten years later--to return to
the city and a position with Levi's, the iconic jean brand, he was a Venetian. The home he'd purchased on a walk street packed with the talismans of Venice friends, stores, designers, intimates, craftsmen and artists. Think global, facilitate local--that's Joule.
While Joule has earned respect as a high level executive working for multinational corporations, he has consistently plumbed such structures for positive means of change: to better lives of individuals and to spark our collective spirit.
Though he officially departed months ago, we held back this piece for why
we-do-not-know, maybe we didn't want to officially let him go. On this hot August morning, however, it's time to reconnect.
Here then, Erik Joule's exit interview.
Last restaurant you'll want to eat in? Axe.
Last design you admired? Joule lays down two. "I have to!!!," he pleads. A Bruno Matson chair. "I'm a freak for chairs. Chairs are the most beautifully designed objects." And a Diebenkorn painting Joule had seen two days earlier at the de Young Museum in San Francisco.
Last surfer you want to prop? "Strider [Wasilewski.] He grew up in Venice when it was so hard to live here. He has that hardness. On the other side, he's sensitive. He's got such a connection to the world. In Venice, everyone talks to you like you're human, there's a softness to it. Strider embodies that."
Last book you read? He's four pages into
Waking, an essay by Thoreau. Recently finished (again)
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain.
Last mistake you made? He doesn't quantify actions or thoughts as outright errors but the night we interviewed him what haunted Joule, just a little, was a career decision that forced him to choose between what would have fed his own soul versus an opportunity that he perceived would have a greater impact on the spirit of others. He went with the latter.
Last innovation or contribution to QuikSilver? Paraphrased, this is what he said: "Hire people that have the right experience to look at a problem differently not necessarily the precise skill set required by the job. But who have a foundation of multiple thought processes and experiences. It's those individuals who may devise new approaches."[...] "I still live that today," he adds by e-mail from San Francisco.
Last thing you want to say about Venice? "I've lived a lot of places. And I've traveled a lot of places. The reason why Venice is so special is, it has a history and it comes from someone's dream. A lot of nostalgia is very damaging to progression. Venice is aware of its past but it's very relevant. It's not a museum."
Last think you want said about Pinkberry? Joule famously entered the chain during one of its first nights of operation in order to forcefully remove a high-profile and critically-acclaimed friend he had caught eating within the premises. We'll let that stand as his answer.
Last good thing a local said to you? "'Don't you dare move out of here completely, it'll ruin the neighborhood--my friend Maria."
Last e-mail address you want to ask for in person? "I'd love Ed Moses'."
Last memory you want to cherish? "Riding my bike with friends after going to the beach in July. Summer in Venice... I love that feeling."
Last thing you'll throw out? "Probably old issues of the
New Yorker."
Last person you'll want to kiss goodbye? "Michael from Equator Books. Do you know him? Michael Deyermond?"
Last thing to live by in the time we're at? "There's this American story and we've forgotten what it is to be American."
Last thing you'll pack? "My bike."
--Tibby Rothman
