Opening nights for Assistant Curators are not all glitz and glamour. Although they are filled with excitement these feeling are often overridden by the madness of final exhibition preparations. Cleaning the floor, dusting showcases and sorting out last minute invite lists are some of the things I have done on opening exhibition nights. This usually only leaves a few minutes to get ready!
In 2011 I worked the opening night of Sydney Design as an Assistant Curator for the Love Lace exhibition. With 134 artists I had to remember what they all looked like, what artworks belonged to which artists, where they were from and whether or not they were attending the opening. In addition, each artist received a copy of the catalogue. It was my job to hand out these catalogues and with 700 guests this was no easy task! Far from a casual night of mingling and socialising, it was spent running around trying to identify the artists among other guests. There was no time for champagne or canapés, instead I think I may have run a marathon during the night!
Rebecca Evans takes a short break from Sydney Design & Love Lace Exhibition Opening, 30th August 2011 Photo: South Bourn, Powerhouse Museum
What to wear to an opening night is also something I think a bit about before hand. Working in the area of fashion and textiles, I feel the pressure to dress appropriately. There are a couple of things I take into account when deciding this: I try and wear something to fit within the theme of the evening (for the opening of Sydney Design and Love Lace I wore a 1960s pink lace dress). It is also important for me not to look like I am wearing the museum’s fashion collection. It’s surprising the number of times I get asked if I do in fact wear the fashion collection, and yet its part of collection management procedure that acquired fashion and accessories should never be worn to preserve them.
Although opening nights can be exhausting and full on, they are one of my favourite parts of working on an exhibition. So far in my working life, nothing comes close to the joy that is seeing all the hard work, countless hours, stress and passion finally come together to make an amazing show! And yes, amongst the chaos there is still time for a lot of glitz and glamour.
Some personal tips for working an opening night:
Don’t drink! You will need all your concentration
Eat a big meal before hand. You won’t have time to eat during the evening
Wear low heals, for all that running around
Make friends with gallery officers and security. They can let you know of any changed running details
First Images: Sydney Design & Love Lace Exhibition Opening, Powerhouse Museum, Sydney, Australia, 30th August 2011 Photo: South Bourn, Powerhouse Museum
After the success of Balenciaga: Spanish Master, it should come as no surprise that the Queen Sophia Spanish Institute was enthusiastic to present another exhibition that focuses on clothing. Joaquín Sorolla and the Glory of Spanish Dress contains a gratifying combination of painting and traditional Spanish attire that simultaneously works to showcase the vision of a talented artist and the richness of Spanish dress.
The exhibition is divided between three floors of the institution. Beginning at the basement level, the first portion of the show contains the greatest quantity of large paintings, and the bright colors splashed across the walls pick up on the intensity of the hues that are synonymous with the Spanish sun and which pop from areas of Sorolla’s dynamic plein air canvases. Paintings are juxtaposed with glass cases of costume, many pieces of which, derive from Sorrolla’s private collection–acquired during his travels and in some cases directly from his models– adding a documentary dimension to the exhibition and creating a fascinating interplay between the art and costume on display.
While the paintings are breathtaking on their own, the ability to examine the intricate embellishment that adorns some of these costumes highlights the appeal of Spanish regional dress as a significant part of the Sorolla works on display. Many of the garments included were worn as a part of custom and ritual, and thus are imbued with layers of symbolism. The jewelry in particular, was piled atop several of the women’s ensembles, and it was a great decision to include a separate case of jewelry in one area that isolated the individual pieces that comprise the heavy bibs of necklaces seen on the mannequins. Materials included stones like tourmaline, garnet, coral, and mother of pearl among others. Each bead, cameo, locket, and amulet seems to tell their own story, often serving auspicious or apotropaic purposes for the wearer such as the corazón de novia or bride’s heart. Additionally, the multiple layers of jewels and garments were a means of establishing wealth and class while also functioning as a portable asset.
There is also a case of garments that include sumptuous brocaded silk textiles such as a Valencian ensemble from the first half of the 20th century that is referential to 18th century fashion and the robe à l’anglaise. Among these is a dress that was worn by the Baroness of Alucuás during the floral games of Valencia in 2006.
A 20th century women’s ensemble from Extremadura includes a montehermoso cap, which houses a small circular mirror at the center top of the item. Single women would wear these mirrored hats that served a functional purpose when they could be utilized to check ones appearance before meeting a potential suitor, simultaneously signaling the marital status of the wearer. Once married, the mirror is removed.
The show continues on the ground floor of the institution. A Nicolas Ghesquiere for Balenciaga coat from Fall 2006 in the lobby was inspired by Basque fisherman–muses for both Ghesquiere and Sorolla–and ushers viewers into the second room where the archetypes of the Flamenco dancer and the Bullfighter are addressed with splendor.
A 1980s cotton broderie anglaise bata de cola flamenco dress that was designed by Lina, and featured in a Lord Snowdon photograph for Vanity Fair in 1987, worn by Naty Abascal, mirrors the exuberance of Sorolla’s Flamenco Dancer from 1914. The pairing underscores the integrality of movement to both dance costume and the interplay of light that characterizes Sorolla’s impressionistic work.
There is also a cluster of lavishly embroidered and embellished bullfighter’s ensembles comprised from a range of pieces from the 1920s through 2011 that utilize new montera, bullfighters hats. The work that goes into the capes in particular is stunning, and even the shocking pink hosiery that swathes the legs of the figures cannot detract from the colorful appeal of these garments.
The topmost floor of the show continues with video footage of Jacqueline Kennedy at Seville’s Feria with the Duchess of Alba in 1966, reproductions of Sorolla’s murals that adorn the walls of theHispanic Society of America, and a grouping of periodical spreads and mannequins that feature contemporary fashion influenced by traditional Spanish dress.
While I’m never unhappy to come across fashion in a museum exhibition, I must confess that in some ways I felt that the inclusion of the contemporary Spanish-inspired design pieces detracted from the show somewhat for me. The essence of the exhibition, and the strength of it in my opinion, was the documented relationship between the many garments that were collected by the artist and their significant contribution to his work and ideas about national identity in general. In some ways, it felt as if the inclusion of items, like a Karl Lagerfeld 2005 dress for Chanel, almost undermined the standalone power that the assemblage of traditional Spanish garments and accessories held on their own. Understandably, the inclusion of more contemporary fashion demonstrates the prevailing influence of more traditional forms of dress and culture on a more global scale today–while also making the exhibition appealing to a larger demographic–but I found the basic story of Sorrolla’s use and acquisition of Spanish dress as an important tool in his painting to be a compelling enough thesis on its own. It would have been nice to see it shine without the pervasive hegemony of haute couture intruding on this vision.
With this in mind, some of the contemporary fashion designs on display are particularly wonderful. There’s a gorgeous Carolina Herrera black velvet gown from Fall 1991 with an asymetrical one-shoulder sleeve and tiers of golden-yellow silk that cascade from one hip with a matching black lace and yellow silk chiffon veil. There is a Stefano Pilati for Yves Saint Laurent evening suit from Spring 2006 with impeccable tailoring, and the Christain Lacroix wedding ensemble from his Fall 2009 couture show that was inspired by the Virgin del Rocío, the patron saint of Almonte, makes a strong case for a future fashion exhibition that focuses solely on the influence of saints and religious icons on contemporary fashion. (I would love to see that piece next to a Gaultier! Any takers?)
All in all, Joaquín Sorolla and the Glory of Spanish Dress is a captivating exhibition and I highly recommend devoting an afternoon to viewing the show. I couldn’t resist picking up a catalog on the spot, which includes essays by Oscar de la Renta, André Leon Talley, Harold Koda from the Costume Institute at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Mitchell A. Codding, Covadonga Pitarch Angulo from the Museo Sorolla, Irene Seco Serra from the Museo del Traje, and an essay on Spanish regional jewelry by Maria Antonia Herradón Figueroa. Molly Sorkin and Jennifer Park are also editors for the catalog, and I strongly suspect, the women behind the informative and illustrated label copy throughout the exhibition. You can find more on the catalog here.
Joaquín Sorolla and the Glory of Spanish Dress will be on view at the Queen Sophia Spanish Institute through March 10th, 2012. For more info, please reference their website.
* All images are published in the exhibition catalog Joaquín Sorolla & the Glory of Spanish Dress *
The new year always leads me to reflect on my past so that I can set new goals. This year will mark the start of my third year teaching fashion as an adjunct instructor. Looking back at this experience, I have identified one main key to success. This key will work in any course, across disciplines, and keep your students engaged and learning. So what is this mysterious tenet?
What I’ve learned from my experiences is that keeping students engaged and learning requires you to keep a balance between teaching and entertaining. Consider this your mathematical equation for success:
50% information + 50% entertainment = 100% learning success
Now, that means as an instructor I am ALWAYS searching for new materials, new techniques and ways to reach my students. The classroom is a stage, I am the performer, and my students are the critics.
Entertaining students with factual information isn’t as difficult as it sounds. It usually involves presenting the information, illustrating how that information is relevant to today’s world, and then giving them an activity to internalize the information. I’ve found this formula is particularly helpful when teaching a history of costume course.
Chasuble, late 1500s. Italian voided silk velvet and silk brocade with linen lining. Allentown Art Museum.
Let’s face it: some historical eras can seem inaccessible and therefore boring to students. For example, when teaching the Middle Ages, I’ve found a lot of resistance in discussing monastic dress. Students tend to immediately dismiss this topic as stodgy and completely irrelevant to anything they’d want to design. So it’s up to me to change their minds. Challenge accepted.
Local museums are often a fantastic and overlooked resource. Quite honestly, I sometimes forget to investigate smaller museums, assuming that they are too small to have a costume or textile collection. Yet I was pleasantly surprised by my recent visit to the Allentown Art Museum. The museum had a small exhibit entitled Heaven on Earth: Textiles of the Renaissance and Baroque. I was immediately inspired to create an assignment for my history of costume class.
I’ve found that after lecturing on topics, it’s best to have an activity that reinforces the information you’ve covered. To really drive the point home, I always ask for a comparison to the present day. (You’ll see this in the activity I created below.) Without understanding the evolution of history and it’s impact on today’s world, you’re entering treacherous waters. I never want my students to be wondering “when am I ever going to use this?”. If you can illustrate why topics are relevant and important to your students’ careers, they’ll be much more likely to remember the content of your course.
For this assignment, I would take the class to the museum and conduct a brief review of the Middle Ages and Italian Renaissance. Then I would have the class break into small groups and complete the following questions:
In your own words, describe who would have worn a chasuble and what were its historic origins.
Even though these textiles were made in Italy, how do they showcase cross-cultural influences? Please discuss where the design motifs originated and how they arrived in Italy.
Detail of Chasuble, late 1500s. Italian voided silk velvet and silk brocade with linen lining. Allentown Art Museum.
Clothing communicates identity. Aside from the chasuble being a uniform, what did the quality of the textiles used say about the wearer? Please compare the chasuble to the garments of common people at the time and explain how this indicated status.
One of the major sources of information about dress of the time comes from illuminated manuscripts and religious art. How accurate are these sources compared to the textiles in this exhibition? Please compare and contrast a textile and painting of your choice. (A great source for illuminated manuscripts is the Morgan’s online exhibition, Illuminated Fashion)
Detail of Vestment decoration, c. 1625. Italian silk satin with embroidery. Allentown Art Museum.
Italy became the velvet capital of the world during the Middle Ages and Renaissance. In your own words, please describe the technology needed to make velvet and why it was so “cutting edge” at the time. Compare and contrast this to the leading technology of our era.
Orphrey Fragment of The Annunciation, early 1400s. Italian silk with gilt foil-wrapped thread, brocade weave. Allentown Art Museum.
Before leaving, I would have a discussion where each group share their answers. For homework, I would have them do either one of two assignments:
Sketch a contemporary garment inspired by the textiles and garments from our museum visit.
Research a contemporary designer who designed a collection based on textiles and garments from this time period. Write a brief response to their collection, and describe your favorite look. Compare this look to what we saw on our museum trip. (Remember to print image)
Either homework assignment will illustrate how these historical trends can be used today. When I assign a sketching assignment, I only assess it for neatness and connection to the material covered. I wouldn’t grade it in the same manner as a portfolio course. Here is an example of a similar assignment I gave when teaching the 18th Century. My student, Sandra, designed a modern-day take on the chemise a la reine by using a traditional silhouette with contemporary fabrics.
Modern-day take on the chemise a la reine. Illustration by Sandra Church.
Generally, I write about exhibitions and events that I have the opportunity to attend. But today I wanted to let WT readers know about a show that I have been working on, and extend an invitation to all who are going to be in the NYC vicinity to come check it out! The opening is this evening from 6-8 p.m. Details below:
This spring, the Museum of London will host an innovative and timely look at developments in the display of dress, and the evolution of mannequins as surrogate bodies for exhibiting historic dress. It is to be titled: New Approaches to the Display of Dress. I’ll be attending the conference and reporting for Worn Through, but I hope to see those of you in the London area there this March!
Below is the conference announcement by Senior Curator of Dress and Decorative Arts, Beatrice Behlen.
In May 2010 The Museum of London launched the Galleries of Modern London. Two curators, four conservators (some part-time) and many volunteers helped putting the 70 outfits on mannequins which took the best part of two years. Other permanent displays of dress opened or relaunched at a similar time, such as the Gallery of Costume in Manchester and the Fashion & Textile Gallery at The Bowes Museum and temporary dress exhibitions are probably more frequent and popular as ever before.
We thought this would be a good time to bring together speakers from a variety of backgrounds to share their experiences with different types of dress supports. We will look at materials to use and avoid for short-term exhibitions and permanent displays; the different ways of making ‘cut-out’ mannequins including the Body-Thèque – a collection of historic body shapes; how to create character and movement; the reasons behind the use of full-figure mannequins and the advantages and potential issues when working with artists and designers. To put it all into context the day will begin with an exploration of the history of ‘the body in the museum’.
The conference is aimed at curators, conservators, designers and project managers involved in the display of dress. You should come away with a better understanding of how best to tailor your display methods to the ‘look’ you are trying to achieve, your time and your budget. You will also have the opportunity to see more than 60 outfits and 250 accessories displayed in the new Galleries of Modern London.
In 2010 I worked on Frock Stars, an exhibition celebrating 15 years of Australian Fashion Week. A collaboration with IMG Fashion and industry leaders, the exhibition explored the history, highlights, scandals and sensations of Australian Fashion Week between 1995 and 2010. The exhibition design and content of Frock Stars gave the visitor an interactive experience of the different aspects that make up Australian Fashion Week. There was a catwalk with 15 garments, a front row with ‘front rower’ interviews, a backstage area, a VIP bar for visitors to relax in and a replica of fashion designer, Nicola Finetti’s studio. A behind-the-scenes look at Fashion Week, Frock Stars allowed visitors to explore and experience aspects of this industry only, closed-to-the public event.
15 years of fashion, Frock stars- Inside Australian Fashion Week Photo: Geoff Friend, Powerhouse Museum
Front row, Frock stars- Inside Australian Fashion Week Photo: Geoff Friend, Powerhouse Museum
Backstage, Frock stars- Inside Australian Fashion Week Photo: Geoff Friend, Powerhouse Museum
Due to interactive nature of this exhibition, it was designed for a specific space. When it was decided that Frock Stars would travel to regional and interstate venues in Australia there were many questions as to how the exhibition would translate into a touring exhibition. How would the exhibition fit into multiple venues? How can fewer staff install the exhibition? Will the content make sense if reduced? How can audiovisuals be included with limited technical assistance during installation? What about showcases and equipment which, are being used for other exhibitions? Can loan and licensing agreements be extended?
Not everything can travel and it was up to the exhibition team including curators, registrars and designers to work through and find solutions for these issues. There were also some key parts to the exhibition that had to be retained to keep the integrity of the original curatorial concept. This included the front row and back stage spaces which, gave visitors an experience of the entire production of fashion week. These parts of the exhibition however were bulky and unable to travel. The exhibition team had previously talked about different ways that this part of the exhibition could still travel but it wasn’t until the designers came on board that solutions were devised. There can sometimes be natural conflict between the curatorial and design departments when putting together an exhibition. Designers can be focused on the ‘look’ of an exhibition while curators focus on the content. Luckily with this exhibition, on both the original and the traveling versions, the designers understood the importance of the different aspects of the curatorial content and sort solutions to make them work within the exhibition space.
The result for the touring Frock Stars is a slightly smaller exhibition with key components included, but reduced in size. For example the catwalk and front row have become one aspect of the exhibition rather than separate in the original plans. Some of the audiovisual footage will be made into large printed images and the exhibition structure is compact and light. I am constantly amazed by the solutions designers come up to tricky problems and I think that those who see the traveling version of the exhibition will get a similar experience to the original.
Frock Stars will go on the road shortly and it will be a fantastic exhibition to have in regional and interstate Australia, showing how far the Australian fashion industry has come over the last 15 years. Travelling this exhibition has also been a test for the exhibition team, working out how to travel a complex exhibition to fit multiple spaces and equipment. It will be fascinating to see the exhibition as it travels to different venues.
First image: Entrance, Frock stars- Inside Australian Fashion Week Photo: Geoff Friend, Powerhouse Museum
Over the course of my recent holiday travels I was pleased to finally make it to the Bata Shoe Museum in Toronto. This institution, as you may have already surmised, is completely devoted to the history of footwear. The museum is comprised of four floors, each which house separate exhibitions and I was thrilled to take the time to wander through all of them.
The lower level of the museum contains a semi-permanent exhibition that provides an overview of footwear through time and geography. While this exhibit was the most straightforward, arranged in a chronological time-line sort of layout in comparison to the more aesthetically considered special exhibitions on display throughout the other floors of the museum– I found this installation to be the most compelling. After years of looking at footwear in painting and illustration, film and photography, and in bits and pieces in other museum shows, it was extremely gratifying to walk the perimeter of the room and examine physical specimens of centuries of footwear in this manner. I am a huge proponent of object-based study, and the Bata Shoe Museum made a strong case for the merits of this approach time and time again.
The timeline begins with the Anthropologist Mary Leakey’s discovery of human footprints in Laetoli Tanzania in volcanic ash in the year 1976, addressing the significance of upright walking for human development, and ends in the 21st century with the largest pair of sneakers that I have ever seen. In between were examples of Etruscan footwear, bejeweled Indian Mojaris and Padukas, Renaissance velvet Chopines, Turkish Nalins with bells around the perimeter, and examples of the Islamic Babouche to name a few. While I have seen many examples of small silk-embroidered gin lien shoes from China designed to accommodate bound feet, it was fascinating to see heavily treaded black leather boots of this size meant for women from lower socio-economic classes who were required to do manual labor, exemplifying the far reach of foot-binding practices in early China. Another pair from the early 20th century when the custom had become outlawed incorporated ‘western-style’ elements into Chinese women’s shoes as a way of accommodating this transitionary time when many women still had modified feet from earlier years of binding. A personal favorite from western fashion was a pair of teal, navy, and silver shoes produced by André Perugia c. 1937-38 for Elsa Schiaparelli’s Circus Collection that were previously owned by la Spinelli.
Other floors included a small exhibition: Footprints on the World Stage, which contained an eclectic assortment of ‘celebrity’ footwear that ranged from shoes worn by Justin Bieber to the socks that Napoleon Bonaparte wore during his exile to St. Helen in 1821. There was a charming pair of crocheted peacock feather shoes worn by Margaret Atwood and a mid-1980s pair of Halston-designed pumps that were worn by Elizabeth Taylor. This portion of the museum was the most hit or miss. While certain items, such as a black leather “Beatle boot” worn by John Lennon create a historical link between popular historical footwear styles and the influence that celebrity can maintain within fashion– as much as I was intrigued to find a pair of socks worn by Napoleon Bonaparte, I’m not sure what their presentation in this context really said about the history of footwear.
Beauty, Identity, Pride: Native North American Footwear, showcased the strength of the museum’s collection, and provided inspiring examples of fringing, beadwork, and other forms of embellishment while revealing interesting information about natural dyes and traditional Native American design. The top floor of the museum has an exhibition titled Art in Shoes ~ Shoes in Art, which included a fascinating mix of caricature and illustration juxtaposed with fine-art and decorative arts objects that approached footwear from a variety of perspectives.
The Roaring Twenties: Heels, Hemlines, and High Spirits was a perfect balance between aesthetics and history. Examining the tenets of modernism in a post-war society, this exhibition did an excellent job of illustrating the significance that societal change inflicted on footwear. Through themes like the women’s suffrage movement and speakeasy culture, social convention was shown to influence ideas about the symbolic nature of dress and footwear. Via technological changes such as the growth of the automobile industry and increasing industrialization, practicality concerns about the very shapes of shoes as well as appreciation for certain methods of hand-embellishment verse machine made production were addressed. The significance of lifestyle activity, such as the growth of jazz culture in an era when dancing was a considerable form of entertainment for many was exemplified through an emphasis on the decorative and dynamic nature of 1920s footwear. As a supplement to the striking shoes on display that included items like a jewel encrusted pair of André Pérugia shoes, there were also some hats, a pair of dresses, and many fashion illustrations that provided context for the many cases of footwear. Additionally, there were areas where 1920s film clips were projected, which contributed to the overall milieu and provided the necessary motion that is tantamount to footwear.
Overall, I found the Bata Shoe Museum to be a fun and engaging visit. The museum offers a variety of events and educational programming that encourages all ages and interest levels, and the programming seemed to balance the diversity of their audience in a skillful way. For those who will not be in the Toronto area anytime soon, the museum also hosts online exhibitions that can be found here.
All images are from the Roaring Twenties exhibition taken during my visit to the museum. Click here for more information about theBata Shoe Museum.
“Sweden has long been known for its beautiful women, but its reputation for clothes has been popularly based on wearing none at all.” LIFE Magazine, October 6, 1958 (1)
With the increasing global visibility of Swedish labels from Cheap Monday to Ann-Sofie Back, the concept of “Scandinavian Design”–so rooted in interiors of the mid-twentieth century–is slowly expanding to include clothing and fashion. (2) Perhaps in light of this, many costume curators are looking back through Sweden’s fashion design history and have found exciting new topics in this well-researched era. Blogs and boutiques here are overflowing with mid-century dress, but often they are inspired by French or American images from the time. Instead, museum curators seem eager to concentrate on Swedish subjects, highlighting and rediscovering designers and fashion houses all but forgotten in the twenty-first century.
As Karin Falk notes in her new book, Det svenska modeundret [The Swedish Fashion Miracle], “Sweden exporting both style and lifestyle internationally is nothing new. The elegant and functional ‘everyday’ products of the 1950s won world recognition as ‘Scandinavian Modern.’” According to Falk, fashion designers such as Mah-Jong and Katja of Sweden were able to develop and export functional, forward-thinking, political clothing in the 1960s and 1970s. (3) Swedish community ideals and Social Democratic leanings jibed well with burgeoning ideologies and youth movements worldwide, and their expression found in the wildly colorful, comfortable outfits from Mah-Jong were certainly something to wear to the next protest against Suits–or just against wearing a suit. (4)
Katja of Sweden was a hit in America, and is arguably the most famous name in Swedish vintage. However, the exhibition “Vävda Modedrömmar: från Ripsa till New York” [Woven Dreams of Fashion: from Ripsa to New York] at Hallwylska museet seeks to give recognition to a forgotten contemporary who balanced the color of Mah-Jong with the traditional textiles and shapes associated with Scandinavian dress, and exported a more conservative side of Sweden.
Set in three rooms of the von Hallwyl mansion in the center of Stockholm, this straightforward exhibition features the textile and clothing design of one woman, Countess Ebba von Eckermann, through the personal collection of another, Ann Forsberg, wife of the former American ambassador. I found the flow of this exhibition to be palpable and well thought-out, and the narrow scope satisfying and inspiring.
The Countess Ebba von Eckermann in the "Ripsa Skirt" of her own design, c.1955. Photograph: Ebba von Eckermann.
This is an interesting exploration of the role of weaving in fashion; even though in Sweden weaving was still an art and a pastime in the 1950s, ’60s and ’70s, the awareness of the average clothing consumer was shifting away from process and technique.
"In the Weaving Studio 1961." Inga-Lill Andersson warping a loom. There were seven looms in the workshop. Published in Den glömda kjolen.
As the fashion industry explored the futures of synthetics and electronic machinery, weaving woolen cloth on a human-powered machine must have seemed a bit quaint. One contemporary writer lamented,
“‘Handwoven’–that might sound a little outdated to many ears in these automated times. No-one has very sentimental views on hand-weaving nowadays. That which people presently demand shall first and foremost be practical, correspond to their needs, preferably be beautiful and furthermore be reasonably priced.” (5)
However, that Ebba The Countess had woven many of the textiles herself in the Swedish countryside played to the pastoral fantasies of her clients, and her stylish eye translated these traditional-looking fabrics into fashionable, if conservative, dresses and gowns. (6)
The first room of this exhibit was set in the ladies’ drawing room of the Hallywyl house. The visitor is introduced to the designer’s most well-known garments, heavy woven skirts with wide elastic waistbands, and short coats that–with a little Swedish ingenuity–are simply blankets, folded and buttoned:
Directions on how to assemble a Ripsa "pläd", published in Den glömda kjolen.
Dior was enchanted by the countess’ ingenuity, and offered both garments in his Paris boutiques in the 1950s, introducing the small Swedish brand to the global fashion market. But this is the first and last we hear of him: this exhibition is about Ebba. Seventeenth century tapestries hanging on the wall remind the visitor of the long history of textile construction, and sounds of shifting heddles and rolling shuttles transports the visitor to the weaving rooms at Ripsa, the idyllic countryside town in the Södermanland region of Sweden where these fabrics and garments were produced.
Model in "Marg" Ripsa Jacket (named after the Countess' mother), 1952. Modern photograph recreating contemporary outfit. Photograph: Jens Mohr.
Contemporary photograph of model Erika Sundt in "Marg" Ripsa Jacket, 1952. Photograph: KW Gullers. Published in Den glömda kjolen.
These workaday noises gave way in the next room to tinkling laughter and clinking glasses, overlaid with slow jazz. In concert with the grand piano and the chandelier in the von Hallwyls’ grand ballroom, this soundtrack set the scene for more than twenty colorful, woven dresses and gowns for day and evening, some with matching coats. These were garments aimed at women such as Mrs. Forsberg, who worked as hard as they played, balancing traditional ideals and national identity (here represented through weaving) with contemporary silhouettes and color palettes.
Colorful wovens in the ballroom. Photograph: Erik Lernestål, LSH.
The first word I thought when I walked in was, färgstarka!: literally, “color-strong”. Sure enough, that’s how the curators describe Ebba’s typical customers:färgstarka kvinnor, colorful women. These complex textiles were crafted into simple silhouettes–“basplagg”in Swedish–common to the 1960s or 1970s, especially smart for showing off the expert weaving that was central to the Ripsa name. And the sparkle! Metallic fibers woven into garments displayed a modern attitude toward the ancient craft.
Woven dress and coat, 1960s. Photograph: Erik Lernestål, LSH.
The strength of this exhibition was that the emphasis was on the objects. Much of the accompanying text is available only through printed handouts (in six different languages), giving the audience the choice to engage further with the objects–or just be present. There is plenty of background on the designer in the attendant book (available in the gift shop!) and perhaps the idea is that this information is better consumed at home, along with a cup of tea and a kanelbulle, after you’ve had the chance to see these garments up (relatively) close and personally.
I find this material-cultural approach exciting. Of course I also value well-researched text-rich exhibitions, but the apparent simplicity and near uniformity of these garments is enhanced by the pared-down presentation. This telescopic view of seemingly omnipresent mid-century fashions is valuable for a more complex understanding of these decades. The exhibition offers a local counterpoint to the clothing the visitor sees on TV while maintaining the glamour that draws people in. I think there’s something to be learned here about the breadth that can be found in a narrow focus.
(1) I assume this is referring to notorious Swedish pornography, famously “exposed” in the article “Sweden & Sin” from TIME Magazine, April 25, 1955.
(2) “To many people, the link between Scandinavia and design is still a familiar story of functionalism and the social democratic welfare states of the twentieth century. But until recently, the Scandinavian countries–Denmark, Norway, and Sweden–had not sought to connect themselves with fashion design. This, however, has changed since the turn of the millennium.” Melchior, 2011, 177.
(3) Falk, 31
(4) For more on Mah-Jong, please see Eldvik, 101-120, and Söderholm, 99-125 [Swedish].
(5) Lundbäck, 21, my translation. A more nostalgic view can be found in Henschen’s Handcraft in Sweden, where the authors long for pre-industrial handweaving done in the home. [Swedish and English]
This autumn the Barbican Art Gallery is presenting OMA Progress an epic exhibition chronicling the work and processes of Rem Koolhaas’ Office of Metropolitan Architecture and its thinktank AMO. I set out to see this exhibition with an architect friend, hoping he might help me decipher the complexities of this architectural juggernaut, and expecting to see a long succession of models of spectacular buildings. Honestly, I thought the exhibition might be a bit dry, or rather outside my sphere of interest – but nothing could have been farther from the truth. I also thought it would be an opportunity to turn my fashion brain to a low setting and appreciate spatial design exclusively. This expectation was also shattered by both the innovative and engaging curation by design collective ROTOR, and my discovery that OMA and AMO have been instrumental collaborators in the design and concepts behind Prada’s stores, catwalk presentations and brand image. Thus, the exhibition was a highly informative, inspirational and fashion-satisfying experience that afforded me the opportunity to explore a magnificent collaboration by two giants of contemporary cultural and aesthetic production.
OMA's museum display system
OMA was founded in 1975 by Koolhaas, Madelon Vriesendorp, Elia and Zoe Zenghalis at the Architectural Association in London. According to the exhibition brochure, they were ‘heavily influenced by the conceptual design of the 1960s, and their early projects challenged notions of the city.’ Since their incpetion, OMA have combined material and conceptual thinking to develop ‘an historically and culturally infused practice of design, expressed through image-making, idea generatio and rigorous investigation of form.’
Exhibition view: Can you spot the real gallery visitor?
The exhibition curation and design underline these aspects of the firms approach and philosophies by presenting material in unique ways focused more on the process than the outcomes of their work. Thus, the exhibition plays out into a series of zones that focus on aspects of architectural design such as movement, sightlines, surface decoration and abstraction. Each area curated by ROTOR was then commented upon by Rem Koolhaas, so the exhibit reads like a dialogue in process among curator and designer.
The hanging portfolio display
The exhibit features among other surprising choices and entire room papered with A4 printouts salvaged from the office’s rubbish bins, and an enormous projection screen that plays a rapid slideshow of every image on OMA’s databases – a loop that would take 48 hours to watch in its entirety!
In the exhibit’s introductory section (which is free of charge, and situated before the ticket desk) visitors learn about OMA’s beginnings and it satellite thinktank AMO, founded to apply architectural thinking to other projects. It was here that I learned it was AMO who designed some of Prada’s flagships, including the one in New York City, and devised their website and recent catwalk presentations.
This area of the exhibition is populated by the clever inclusion of life sized 2 dimensional cut-outs of museum visitors, that are eerily lifelike and from a distance difficult to distinguish from real people. Just before entering the exhibition, visitors are invited to peruse a display of hanging placards that serve as a comprehensive portfolio of OMA’s work and serve to give an idea of just how prolific and far-reaching their vision has become.
Vivienne Westwood cycling: one of the images I added to my notebook
Already aware that this was not a typical architecture exhibit, I was even more enamoured by the show after entering a gallery hung with small pads of paper form which visitors could select their own collection of images and imformation to take away. The content was presented as things the members of the firm are thinking about right now, and it really felt like being invited into an eclectic creative brainstorm. Among the tearsheets I greedily added to my notebook were an image of Vivienne Westwoond riding a bicycle, a photo from 1911 of Russian peasants in traditional dress and short manifestos for “the creative class.” In the center of the room were a series of blue foam cubes, the very same that were used as seating for Prada’s 2011 catwalk show.
The seating arrangement for the Prada SS12 show
The material relating to Prada’s collaborations with OMA were scattered thorughout the show, and referenced in relation to concepts such as movement, adaptation instead of quitting and alternate ways of seeing.
Street level display at the Prada Epicentre Los Angeles
For example, the Los Angeles Prada Epicentre (2004) met the challenge of a store with little window display space by embedding show mannequins below street level, visible to pedestrians before entering the shop. The model of the store on display also proposed an enormous lens in the shopfront that would have made it possible for people to have close up views of store product while passing by int heir cars. Unfortunately, a small note on the model reading lente non realizzabile, indicated that this lens was impossible to fabricate. Fortunately, the concept is legible in the model photograph!
OMA model for the Prada Epicentre, Los Angeles
Another significant presentation of the Prada/OMA collaboration was a rotating device for displaying skirts, that was devised for the Prada Waist Down exhibition in 2009.
The Prada Waist Down Exhibition as presented in Tokyo
The simple mechanism, displayed overhead displays a pleated length of silk, printed with the trompe l’oeil image of pleated fabric creating the illusion of infinite volume in motion.
The Prada SS12 show in Milan, featuring the aforemetioned blue foam cube seats, was a groundbreaking and clever device for usurping the usual hierarchy of fashion shows, putting the viewers in a grid allowing 360 degree views of the models, ensuring that every seat in the house was “front row.”
Getting a taste of the joint projects of Prada and OMA gave me a thirst to know more about how the two entities share a vision and are pushing the boundaries of how we experience and consume both fashion and architecture in the 21st century. The reading room at the conclusion of the exhibit offered up copies of a few publications entirely devoted to the projects of OMA and Fondazione Prada, which are pricey, but now added to my Amazon wishlist!
Erstwhile, I have composed a shortlist of web-based articles that announce and describe some of the projects and are a great start t0 a deeper familiarisation with both parties and their unique partnership
I left the exhibit with my fashion brain on overload, and my architectural apprehension being given a run for the door. This is one to check out, sure to inspire you to consider yourself a thinktank or even better to form your own collective for the exploration of new ways of thinking about design, living and yes, even fashion.
This is the leaflet I have pinned up on my wall as a daily reminder to think diferently!
Recently I went to see the popular former Victoria & Albert Museum exhibition Hats: An Anthology by Stephen Jones in its new temporary home at the Bard Graduate Center Galleries. I’d been longing for an opportunity to see the show after its London run–and I’m glad that I chose an evening when the gallery was open late, as taking the time to wander around and really look at everything is highly recommended. FYI–gallery admission is free during extended hours on Thursday evenings between 5-8 pm, so there’s little reason to miss out on visiting this exhibition if you are going to be in the New York City area between now and April 15th, 2012 when the show closes.
Spanning three floors of the BGC galleries, the exhibition is organized thematically into four different sections, which follow an artistic-millinery trajectory from Inspiration, to Creation, to the Salon, concluding with the Client—a category signifying simultaneously the end of one creative life cycle and the beginning of another. Included is an impressive mixture of hats ranging from a 12th century Egyptian fez to fashionable concoctions from the 21st century. While the involvement of an active designer or design house can sometimes disadvantage an objective curatorial approach — the Stephen Jones show does nothing to underplay the fact that this show is organized by an actively working milliner. Hats does not in any way aspire to be a comprehensive history of headwear. Instead, as the title suggests, it is an anthology channeled by one vision and one unique perspective. Although the work of Stephen Jones comprises this voice and is a prominent portion of the exhibition checklist, ultimately it is the voices of many that create the dialogue of the show.
The first section, Inspiration, provides a refreshing entry into the ideology behind creation. While starting with inspiration might be the glaringly logical starting point for a designer, it is not often that museum exhibitions start in this manner. Such information is not usually divulged unless it specifically enhances the perceived value of the work of a designer. In design school students are taught from day one that inspiration is the starting point of the whole process, and starting the show with this theme draws one into the mindset of an artistic thinker immediately. Individual cases are sub-categorized into typologies such as “Bonnets and Top Hats”, “Tricornes and Bicornes”, and other less literal designations such as “Status”. Immediately evident from the mixture of objects included in this section are the multifarious influences that a successful designer draws from, as well as the prominence that history does maintain in informing contemporary design. Included are items as divergent as a Darth Vader polyethylene helmet from the 1977 film Star Wars, to an Indian crown dated loosely between 1800-1900. One can compare ‘originals’ such as an 1850 Prince Albert top hat alongside more modern interpretations like the Justin Smith, Polly Wales, and Nikole Lowe tattooed top hat from 2009. Naturally, thrown into the mix is a Stephen Jones 2008-09 pink silk satin top hat from his collaboration with Comme des Garcons, Homme Plus line for the Autumn/Winter season of that year.
The Creation section of the exhibition provides an exciting selection of exemplary creations, which speak to a mastery of materials and concepts. In a case focused on straw hats there are Lily Dache pieces from the 1960s grouped with a French Bergere hat with elaborate floral embroidery around the rim from one hundred years earlier. There is a delightfully twisted Marshall and Snelgrove straw hat (ca. 1937) and a “cityscape” hat by Jennifer Ouellette from 2001 with buildings and trees that encircle the inside of the hat while small squares on the outer ring represent what I enthusiastically interpreted as small cars. Another vitrine within this section focuses on the animal kingdom and includes an Elsa Schiaparelli silk foulard hat that is printed with ants (although they looked like flies to me), a Bes-Ben of Chicago “Swan hat” comprised of silk, velvet, and cotton that featured two small clusters of embroidered swans meant to sit on either side of the face, and a Michael of Lachasse “Martians Claw” hat and veil from 1955. Within the creation section were also sub-themes such as “hoods”, “geometry”, and the “modern age”, which paired items like a bicycle helmet alongside a Louis Vuitton “casque damier” hat.
The Salon portion of the exhibition was particularly interesting. While hats are grouped in cases devoted to materiality by types (paper, flowers, plastic, and feathers, etc.) which collectively provides stunning examples of creative headwear—it is the atelier vignette set up within the room, that simulates the chaotic harmony of a design room in the most compelling way. From the floor to the ceiling, the reconstruction of an artist’s studio feels complete. There are tears and sketches tacked along the expanse of the walls; half-open boxes strewn across the floor; and desk lamp spotlighting elaborate concentrated works. Feathers, findings, and other hat-specific accoutrements are tossed and pinned throughout the room, and there are a variety of interesting objects to glean information from. One of such is a “Head Shapes” conformator machine, which punches out a pattern of the client’s head directly onto a piece of card for reference. Displayed next to this bizarre mechanism are patterns for the heads of celebrity clientele such as Cecil Beaton, Jackie Onassis, and Norman Hartnell.
This glamorous clientele of the milliner is the fourth and final section of the installation titled: The Salon. This portion focuses on the second life that consumption and use brings to finished hats and cases are organized by themes such as “Designer clients”, “Famous hats”, and more physical classifications such as “Tiaras”. There is an entire case devoted to “Shoe hats”, which quite satisfyingly include an Elsa Schiaparelli creation from 1937-38, alongside inspired homages by Bill Cunningham, and three by Stephen Jones himself from 1982, 2006, and 2011 (who isn’t obsessed with Elsa Schiaparelli!?). And it is this specific lineage of inspiration which makes the Stephen Jones exhibition so fascinating. While the quantity, quality, and vast artistic range of examples provided makes for a fun and interesting exhibition regardless, to be presented these items through a designers perspective gives an interesting glimpse into the way that a vital artist perceives the very world in which they labor.
The Stephen Jones exhibition is on view at the Bard Graduate Center galleries through April 15th 2012. On Thursday, December 15th, Phyllis Magidson, curator of Costume & Textiles from the Museum of the City of New York will be moderating a panel titled The Hatmaker’s Muse: New York Milliners: Part I. Please see the BGC website for more information.
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Images:
1- “Sex on the Brain” Hat by Kirsten Woodward, 1989
2- “Shoe Hat” by Elsa Schiaparelli, 1937-38
3- Stephen Jones “Thunderbird” Hat for John Galliano, 1996
4- Stephen Jones/Nasir Mazhar for Gareth Pugh, 2008
5 & 6 – Michael of Lachasse “Martian’s Claw” Hat, 1955
7- Jo Gordon “Kiss of Death” Bonnet, 1994
8- Stephen Jones ‘Bunny Ears’ Hat for Comme des Garcons, 2007
9- Indian Crown (possibly Lucknow), Mid 19th Century
