A month ago it was announced that the English architect, historian, researcher, critic and educator Kenneth Frampton will be the recipient of the Golden Lion for Lifetime Achievement at the 16th International Architecture Exhibition in Venice, curated by Yvonne Farrell and Shelley McNamara (from 26th May to 25th November).
Trained at the Architectural Association School of Architecture, London, Frampton has taught since 1972 at the Graduate School of Architecture, Planning, and Preservation at Columbia University, New York.
Frampton has inspired generations of students and architects through his works such as the seminal Modern Architecture: A Critical History, Towards a Critical Regionalism, focused on the concept of re-valuating context, place and culture, and Studies on Tectonic Culture, a work that highlights the connection between the language of construction and the language of architecture.
In a press release about Frampton being awarded the Golden Lion, Yvonne Farrell and Shelley McNamara stated: "Through his work, Kenneth Frampton occupies a position of extraordinary insight and intelligence combined with a unique sense of integrity. He stands out as the voice of truth in the promotion of key values of architecture and its role in society. His humanistic philosophy in relation to architecture is embedded in his writing and he has consistently argued for this humanistic component throughout all the various 'movements' and trends often misguided in architecture in the 20th and 21st century."
"His experience as a practicing architect has given him a deep understanding of the process of designing and crafting buildings. This makes him both more sympathetic and more critical of the various forms of the practice of architecture. His consistent values in relation to the impact of architecture on society, together with his intellectual generosity, position him as a uniquely important presence in the world of architecture."
The most famous building designed by Frampton - dubbed "a maestro" by Paolo Baratta, La Biennale President - is Corringham, a modernist residential apartment block located in Bayswater, London.
The first design was completed in 1960 and it focused on a building with 45 apartments and 39 maisonettes arranged over six floors; new drawings were presented the following year, but the final design was submitted in January 1962 and eventually approved in June of the same year.
The building comprises eight floors with six apartments each, plus an underground parking garage for residents and a communal garden. Each apartment has an east-facing balcony overlooking the garden and London's West End.
The style is modernist and minimalist and clearly references Le Corbusier in its pure geometrical forms and lines and in its choice of materials - concrete, metal (see the strong window frames) and glass.
The rubbish chute and extractor fans were also a derivation of Le Corbusier's idea that a house is a "machine for living in", even though the site dedicated to the building highlights that Kenneth Frampton claimed the mass of the building owed to the ideas of Atelier 5 in Switzerland.
Though still minimalist, the back of the building included inset balconies and contrasting black railings.
The vertical emphasis of the lift shaft, stair well and boiler flue contributed to turn Corringham into one of the first major structures in the brutalist style ever built in Central London (when it was finished it received mixed reviews and its modernist exterior was considered as rather controversial at the time).
Frampton's connection with fashion? Well, apart from the fact that you can always get inspired by his writings and apply his teachings to fashion design, there is a more practical link as well: the "form follows function" principle that informs Corringham, was indeed behind Ally Capellino's 2014 designs that were inspired by the basic and reduced lines and subtle colour palette of London's brutalist architecture.
Last November the Victoria and Albert Museum in London announced that it had acquired a threestorey section of Robin Hood Gardens, the social housing estate located in Poplar, East London, designed by British architects Alison and Peter Smithson.
The acquisition - comprising both exterior facades and interiors of a maisonette flat - was carried out in partnership with Swan Housing Association, London Borough of Tower Hamlets, the Mayor of London and Muf architecture/art.
The structure is now heading to the 16th International Architecture Exhibition in Venice (from 26th May to 25th November) where it will be on display at the Applied Arts Pavilion in the Sale d'Armi at the Arsenale.
This special event marks a return to the Biennale for the Smithsons: in 1976 they went to Venice where they showcased billboard-size images of the buildings in progress and a bench that looked like the fins that characterised the buildings, with the caption "A building under assembly is a ruin in reverse". The caption inspired the title for the Biennale showcase - "Robin Hood Gardens: A Ruin In Reverse".
A social architecture experiment, the Robin Hood Gardens complex was built by the Greater London Council (GLC) and later transferred to the local authority of Tower Hamlets. It was designed in 1968 and completed in 1972 and was a perfect example of New Brutalism, characterised by a horizontal layout and divided in two 10 and 7 storey high stark concrete buildings.
This was the first and last council estate project by Alison and Peter Smithson, but it remained an important one for some of its features, including the noise-reducing elements like the exterior concrete fins, and the elevated walkways, known as "streets in the sky" and intended to encourage interaction between neighbours. For the husband-and-wife team the building was a "demonstration of a more enjoyable way of living (…) a new mode of urban organisation."
In 2015, the application to give Robin Hood Gardens listed status was turned down and it was announced that it would have been demolished: architect Richard Rogers wrote a letter signed by Zaha Hadid, Robert Venturi and Toyo Ito against the decision, but a while back it was announced that it will definitely be demolished as part of a £300m redevelopment scheme and the flats will be replaced with over 1,500 new homes.
In Venice the section of Robin Hood Gardens will be recreated on a scaffold, designed by ARUP with Muf architecture/art: visitors will be able to walk inside the structure, observe the position of the bedrooms and the way they were protected from the noises of the street and of the external corridors along the building, conceived as a shared and common space for the inhabitants.
New visual work by Korean visual artist Do Ho Suh will contribute to give visitors the impression of going through the building and getting to know the lives of the people who once occupied it. Rather than just enjoying the project, visitors may want to consider the pros and cons of such a display.
Some critics considered indeed the acquisition of a piece of social housing as controversial: the V&A collection boasts the 17th-century timber facade of Sir Paul Pindar's House in Bishopsgate, London, and the gilded Music Room salvaged from Norfolk House in St. James's Square, London. Yet, while museums can't express opinions about saving a building (but can claim they are acquiring sections of them for future generation...) in the case of this project you naturally wonder if the museum was just interested in the preservation aspect and did not take into consideration the human aspect and the vicissitudes of the residents who lost their council tenancies when it was decided to demolish the structure (besides, you naturally wonder if demolishing council estates will imply that future generation will be left with just pictures, fragments and videos, rather than with tangible buildings, to learn more about these structures).
Hopefully, the fragment of Robin Hood Gardens at the Venice Biennale may not end up being considered as just another installation by visitors who will eventually be prompted to discover more about the people who lived there and the architecture of state-built council housing.
After all, Dr Christopher Turner, Keeper of the Design, Architecture and Digital Department at the V&A, stated in a press release about the project: "This three-storey section of Robin Hood Gardens (...) is an object that will stimulate debate around architecture and urbanism today - it raises important questions about the history and future of housing in Britain, and what we want from our cities."
The project goes certainly well with the main theme of this year's Venice Architecture Biennale - "Freespace" - launched by curators Yvonne Farrell and Shelley McNamara and questioning the quality of space, open and free space and the presence/absence of architecture.
Fashion designers looking for inspirations shouldn't dismiss such a project: the pre-Spring-Summer 19 collection by Irene Kostas' Helsinki-based label ONAR is for example inspired by city moods. Moving from the urban photographs of Eoin McLoughlin, the collection is indeed based on what we may define as a council estate palette of black, foggy grey and phantom green with just a splash of solar yellow. In a nutshell, inspiration may come from the most unlikely places, even from brutalist ones.
There has been a lot of talk about Simon Porte's Jacquemus label, and, as summer is drawing near, his oversized straw hats have become popular in hip shoots and features. One of the latest straw hats that appeared on the runway of the A/W 18 collection ("Le Souk") was reminiscent in its shape of Balenciaga's elliptical headdress accessorising the iconic 1967 solemn silk gazar wedding gown.
Yet before that, Jacquemus came up with a straw hat characterised by an even more exaggerated size and included in his S/S 18 "La Bomba" collection. The super wide brimmed hat is the protagonist of many chic and cool posts on Jacquemus' Instagram page. Though absolutely surreal and slightly comical, the hat - considered as an irresistible trendy novelty (it is indeed apparently sold out) - is not new at all.
It was indeed Schiaparelli who created in 1949 a giant straw hat: in Schiap's case the hat had two holes so that the wearer could use it as a sort of jacket, employ it to protect herself from unwanted attention or even try and change herself under it once on the beach. In this 1949 photoshoot the hat was matched with Schiap's white sandals inspired by men's spats (will we see them reappearing on some runways one of these days?).
Writing about the hat on La Settimana Incom in 1949, Italian fashion critic Irene Brin, joked saying that this was a mediocre invention, implying that Schiaparelli had lost it, and sarcastically adding (without being afraid of offending the fashion designer) that Schiap was maybe just enjoying taking the piss out of women and humiliating them.
Simon Porte Jacquemus' "invention" is regarded as the ultimate fashion accessory for the trendy and fashionable girl, but, you wonder, what if we could apply what Irene Brin stated about Schiap to Jacquemus as well? Food for thought, food for thought.
"Oh My God", the animated film for Wang Shuo's graduate collection features with what looks like a metal bell-shaped dress accompanied by an Oriental melody and by distant noises of bells ringing. The dress features a bustier made with fabric and rigid elements and a skirt that looks as if it were made with hundreds of overturned metal hearts. Could they be ex-votos? After all some of them are characterised by abstract cut-out motifs, while others seem to have a cross-shaped motif carved inside them. There's also a bright LED light shining somewhere inside the gown. Could this be the perfect dress for a romantically robotic Coppelia? Well, actually its designer had something else in mind.
The design has indeed got a name - Shun Feng Er - a reference to the Chinese sea and door god with the ability to hear all sorts of sounds carried upon the wind.
Wang Shuo's collection moves indeed from "The Creation of the Gods" a seminal Chinese mythological text published in the Ming Dynasty, each outfit has indeed got the name of one of the characters from the book - from Bi Gan and Jiu Tou to Kong Que, Lei Zhen Zi, Qian Li Yan and Yang Ren. The collection is also conceived as a tribute to the designer's own fascination with the richness of religious architectures that he developed while studying in Italy.
This combination of inspirations generated disharmoniously harmonious designs: some pieces seem to combine sacred vestments and tribal attires; an emerald lace cape that wouldn't look out of place on the stage of a opera house incorporates on the back a massive beak-shaped element, while the designer also played with illusions as not everything is what it seems and some of the metal components are actually 3D printed elements, hacked and repainted by Wang Shuo himself.
There has been a lot of talk recently about fashion and religion especially after the exhibition "Heavenly Bodies" opened at the Met Museum's Costume Institute, but in this case we have a young designer taking the discourse further, breaking up conventional references and creating his own vision of Chinese myths and Catholic architectures, a world in which the East and the West live together in peace.
Some of the garments actually make you think about the modus operandi of the costumes designers behind Pier Paolo Pasolini's films such as Medea or Oedipus Rex: unsure about the historical period they should have taken inspiration from since they were dealing with mythical characters and trying to avoid falling into stereotypes, they turned to research and fantasy, creating fabrics from scratch and making accessories and jewellery with whatever they found.
Wang Shuo did the same, perversely rejecting conventional fashion rules and suggesting a very personal interpretation of legends and religion: the designer's vision is the proof that you don't need to follow trends, especially when you're young, but you can find intriguing inspirations in your own history and in what surrounds you.
Can you please introduce yourself to our readers and tell us more about your background? Wang Shuo: I was born in a small town, Baishan, in the northeast of China and, when I was 12 I moved to Zhoushan with my parents, a town located around 2,000 KM in the southeast. I graduated from Zhejiang Sci-Tech University with a major in fashion, art and design. On my junior year I had the chance to go to study at FIT in New York as an exchange student; then, after graduating from college, I came to Milan and took the MA in Fashion and Textile Design at NABA. Before my final thesis I did an Erasmus program at the London College of Fashion and followed some very interesting shoe making lessons during that semester.
Which were the best classes you had at NABA? Wang Shuo: I found almost all the classes I took there important and useful. The ones in textile design taught me a lot about different types of fabrics and how to make and use them; the hat making lessons made me realise that accessories are also important in design, while the photography classes helped me learning how to showcase my work. The "From Foot to Head" classes had the deepest effect on me. They were the first ones I took at NABA and during them Professor Cinzia Ruggeri inspired us to fulfill our design idea with our individual experience and intuition. It was very different from what I learnt in college and the approach we were taught radically transformed my concept of design.
Who has been the greatest influence on your career choices and do you have a favourite fashion designer or artist? Wang Shuo: My parents have so far given me emotional and practical support and this is important as I love design and I feel lucky to have chosen a career that is also my passion. Professor Cinzia Ruggeri also gave me a lot of advice and encouragement and that helped me preserving my faith in what I am doing. For what regards artists and designers, I like those ones who display distinguishing attitudes and approaches: among the designers I like the most there is the late Alexander McQueen because he had a great ability at controlling different kinds of materials; I also admire Frida Kahlo, a painter who deeply shocks me for her in-depth studies about her own self and the lively and strong way she portrayed herself in her works.
Which disciplines inform your work? Wang Shuo: I guess I can't actually say for sure. For this collection I was inspired by old churches and character images from Chinese legends. I wanted to tell a story moving from these inspirations and I ended up creating it using all sorts of materials and technologies available to me at the time of making the collection.
Your collection is presented with a video – are you also into animation? Wang Shuo: Yes, I am - if I have the opportunity, I try to use animation to show my works from different perspectives.
Can you introduce us to the main themes of your collection? Wang Shuo: When I first started working on my collection I wanted to include in it a variety of elements, many of them inspired by the book "The Creation of the Gods" and by the Italian churches. I used metal, glass, wood and 3D materials together with fabrics and integrated lights to create a changeable environment. When you switch on the lights, the outfit looks different and it also looks different if you look at it from another perspective. I wanted to use this symbolism to highlight how people and things are more multifaceted than we think and we will see different sides of them if we look upon them from different perspectives. In a way this is the core theme of my collection.
Did you first develop a story in your mind for this collection? Wang Shuo: Yes, as I said before I developed an idea about what I wanted to present and then started to think about how to make it come true. While I worked on my idea I visited churches and I noticed that there are many resemblances between gods in Chinese legend and gods from the European tradition. Then an idea came to me – it would be amazing to combine elements from Chinese novels and churches in Italy. I studied the characters in "The Creation of the Gods" and decided which ones I could have included in the collection, then tried to figure out how to construct all the elements both from the West and the East and combine them in a harmonious way.
There is an interesting dichotomy in your collection, on one side the technological elements (the sculptures with integrated lights for example...) and on the other the fashion aspect with clothes made with fabrics: what inspired these dichotomy? Wang Shuo: Defintely my fascination with churches in Italy and with their architectural features such as sculptures, wood carvings, bricks and painted glass. I wanted to include those architectural features in my work. To fulfill this idea I decided to combine hard materials that can be easily shaped with fabrics. I have used metal ceramics and glass objects for example and employed 3D printed plastic materials as well.
Was this dichotomy between technology and craftsmanship replicated during the stages of the creation of the collection? Wang Shuo: Yes, I developed one stage of the collection using 3D modeling software, but then I created the pieces by hand. Most of the 3D materials were made from plastic; I heated and shaped them, then painted them with paint coating mixed with metal powder and wood powder to created a different surface quality.
Which was the most difficult aspect of developing your collection? Wang Shuo: I used a lot of 3D printed materials, but I had no knowledge of how to use a 3D printer which meant it took me quite a lot of time to learn everything from scratch and do the 3D models!
Is there a technique you'd like to experiment with in future? Wang Shuo: I want to learn different techniques: I recently got a second-hand embroidery machine that can do different patterns with software and I'm now trying to learn a bit more about it and playing around with it.
What are your immediate future plans: would you like to stay in Milan or would you like to move somewhere else now that you've finished your studies at NABA? Wang Shuo: I don't have any immediate plans yet, I think it is important to do things that I love to do and I will try my best to do them better. I'm going to stay in Milan and I hope to learn more from other designers before I present my new work.
Would you like to showcase your pieces in a museum or gallery one day? Wang Shuo: It would be great if that would happen, but it's better to let nature do things at its own rhythm. For the time being, I think it is more important for me to learn more and get further experience before committing myself to such showcases.
All images and the video in this post courtesy and copyright Wang Shuo
"Nobody is a prophet in their own land", says the adage, but the Fries Museum in Leeuwarden (this year's European Capital of Culture) in The Netherlands is subverting this statement by dedicating an exhibition to one of its most illustrious sons - M.C. Escher. The recently opened exhibition "Escher's Journey" (on until 28th October) follows Escher's career from graphic designer to world-famous artist and does so through a series of different cultural paths and events.
The exhibition at the Fries Museum features over eighty original prints, twenty drawings plus photographs and objects, some of them on loan from the M.C. Escher Foundation in Baarn, the Gemeentemuseum Den Haag, the Rijksmuseum Amsterdam and important private collections. It is also worth remembering that some of the drawings on display are being showed in The Netherlands for the first time or for the first time in decades.
Born in Leeuwarden in 1898, Maurits Cornelis Escher extensively travelled after his studies and eventually moved to Italy with his wife Jetta Umiker. Though based in Rome, they travelled throughout the country and Escher worked on different drawings and sketches that later on in his life were turned into lithographs, woodcuts and wood engravings.
Escher lived in Italy his happiest years, a formative period of time that went from 1923 to 1935 and that gave him time to experiment with landscapes, striking perspectives and lights and shadows (think about the scenes he captured in "Nocturnal Rome"). Escher would reach secluded villages in the mountains by donkey or sketch at night with a torch tied to his buttonhole.
After becoming obsessed with the Division of the Plane, a fascination that the artist developed when he visited the famous Alhambra in Granada, Spain, Escher created a series of drawings inspired by it.
Architectural perspectives, geometrical and mathematical illusions and real places combined in his complex images that violated physical laws and generated impossible yet mesmerising worlds such as the ones in "Belvedere" (1958), with an Italian mountain landscape in the background, or "Metamorphosis II" (1939-1940), incorporating geometric figures, bees, insects and even a chessboard and a view from the Atrani cathedral on the Amalfi coast.
The Fries Museum journey starts in The Netherlands, but soon moves to the Mediterranean sun and to the Italian mountains of forgotten Abruzzese villages that only Dr Who's fans may have heard about (Castrovalva anybody?), locations that turned for Escher into great inspirations.
Shortly after leaving for Italy, on Christmas Day 1922, Escher wrote to his friend Jan: "The completely new atmosphere in which I live; the surprisingly unexpected and unknown feelings presented to me every day in this blessed place, could not be processed by my heart with sufficient gratitude and with sufficient mental appreciation if I did not attempt to let others share them with me by letter, and I did not attempt to record the excesses to which I am exposed here, and to save them from the cursed oblivion for a time."
Among the works in the exhibition there are also "Eight Heads" (1922) - a motif of four women's and four men's heads printed several times (once in the possession the artist's eldest son, George Escher, who donated the work to the National Gallery of Canada in 1982) and "Convex and Concave" (1955), representing a Mediterranean-style building from a dizzying perspective.
Escher's famous images were always preceded by a great deal of research and practice: the "Convex and Concave" print is indeed presented in the exhibition together with the ten preliminary studies he did about it. The artist also experimented with various printing techniques – linocuts, etching and woodcuts – and, from 1929 onwards, he made more and more lithographs.
One of the absolute highlights of the exhibition remains "Day and Night", a print showing a Dutch landscape of fields, villages and water, with black and white birds flying over the landscape in opposite directions. This was one of his first woodcuts based on plane filling, a compositional technique in which figures repeat themselves and transform into new shapes - ploughed fields become birds; day becomes night. On the left the representation is depicted in daylight; on the right the same scene is seen in the dark.
Escher stated about this artwork that nine years ago also inspired Alexander McQueen's "Horn of Plenty" collection: "It was born logically from the associations light = day and dark = night."
The suggestion of a transition between day and night is reinforced by subtle gradations in grey tones, an effect that Escher created by using two blocks during printing. This image became one of Escher's best-selling works: in total he printed more than 650 of them.
Escher used carbon paper to transfer his representations to stone or wood and he sometimes used the same paper several times for different prints. About his technique he wrote: "A graphic artist essentially has something of a troubadour; he sings and repeats the same song in every print he makes form the same woodblock, copper plate or lithographic stone."
By exhibiting Escher's carbon paper, the Fries Museum brings visitors closer to the artist and his creative process, showing how he used Japanese paper and a bone spoon to press the ink from the wooden block onto the paper.
The museum should be praised for trying to make Escher extremely accessible, offering visitors a series of engaging satellite activities: this event is accompanied by "Phantom Limb: Art Beyond Escher", a sister exhibition featuring installations by contemporary national and international artists who, like Escher, create a world in which nothing is what it seems (the Princessehof National Museum of Ceramics is also honouring Escher with a small exhibition featuring photographs, film fragments and objects to bring the youth of Escher and the influence of ceramics on his artistry closer).
Besides, visitors can learn to make their own woodcuts in the Escher Studio, a reconstruction of his workshop in Rome, or create a selfie with the sphere in which the studio is reflected - a reference to the masterpiece "Hand with Reflecting Sphere" (1935), or they can admire the large-scale drawings creatured by street artist Leon Keer outside the museum (these diverse projects can all be accessed on the Planeet Escher site where you will also find a crocheting challenge - a citizens' initiative that attempts to break a world record via a huge blanket with Escherian motifs).
Last but not least, there is also an audio tour in which director Peter Greenaway reads from Escher's own letters, diaries and notes about his adventures, while the interactive documentary "De metamorfose van Escher" (The Metamorphosis of Escher) dissects the intricacies behind Escher's work.
And if you fancy more of Escher, well, Janelli & Volpi released a collection of Escher-inspired wallpapers that was showcased during Milan Design Week in April.
A truly large and innovative project, the collection includes "Metamorphoses" and other six murales reproducing original Escher's drawings - "Three worlds", "Up and Down", "Florescent Sea", "Drawing Hands" and "Bound of Union". Looks like this may be another annus mirabilis for the mastermind of graphic illusions M.C. Escher.
In yesterday's post we mentioned Raimondo di Sangro, Prince of Sansevero. A rather mysterious man, Di Sangro was born in Torremaggiore in 1710, and became an anatomist and inventor. His interests in chemistry and alchemy meant that he became well known as a magician and a "cursed prince" for his strange scientific experiments.
Legends say that he had carved out of the bones and skin of seven cardinals seven chairs (that may be a legend, but he apparently made a perpetual lamp using some bones and a skull...) and that he had turned into a metal statue a woman who had rejected him and a man who had defended her (in fact they say that the anatomical models preserved in the underground rooms of the Sansevero Chapel in Naples are not models, but a man and a woman in whose veins the prince had injected a metallising liquid that helped him obtaining a perfect model of the circulatory system, spooky isn't it?). In 1744 the prince started renovating the Naples-based family chapel, now known as the Sansevero Chapel.
There are further legends about this chapel (some say it was built on the same location of an ancient temple dedicated to Isis) that preserves some of the finest works of art you will see in Naples, such as the "Veiled Christ" by Giuseppe Sanmartino, an incredibly moving and mesmerising artwork as the veil covering the body of the dead Jesus looks almost real.
Another legend says that some of the veils and nets covering the other statues in the chapel are not made from marble, but they were real fabrics turned into marble by a secret alchemical process the mad prince had discovered.
But there are further legends about the chapel and in particular about its floor, designed by Raimondo di Sangro and commissioned to artist Francesco Celebrano in 1760.
The entire floor was covered in an intricate design, as proved by what we are left with (the original flooring was damaged in 1889; the chapel was refloored in Neapolitan cotto and enamelled in yellow and blue, the colours of the di Sangro arms) and by the 19th century lithograph in the Museum archives.
The design consists of alternate hooked crosses highlighted by a continuous line of white marble that runs continuously.
The polychrome inlay has different shades, from blue to white, giving depth to the composition. Along the perimeter of the nave ran a darker band, also decorated with an intricate line.
The floor was an allegory: the labyrinth motif, belongs to the ancient classical tradition and it is linked to hermetic knowledge, it represents the difficulty of the pathway which the initiate must follow to gain knowledge.
The hooked crosses referenced cosmic movement; the concentric squares pointed at the tetragon of the elements instead. Besides, labyrinths were also considered as the alchemists' image of the Great Work.
We do not know if the prince of Sansevero had any other special meanings hiding behind the maze motif, but we do know that he never managed to see the finished flooring that to this day remains one of the most fascinating geometrical motifs ever created, even though we are left only with fragments of it.
Fancy taking the labyrinth challenge and recreate this motif in your pieces (clothes? accessories? pieces of furniture?)? Design sisters Marita and Frida Francescon have already done so a while back by creating, in collaboration with the Museo Cappella Sansevero in Naples and with Ceramiche Refin, labyrinthine tiles with motifs inspired by the floor of the Sansevero chapel. They also applied the motif to the "Antica-Mente" table made with Lg's HI-MACS®.
Nobody has re-employed the geometrical maze motif in fashion yet, but bets are open as this is the sort of stuff you may easily end up seeing in one of Pierpaolo Piccioli's evening gowns or capes for Valentino.
Books and fabrics may not conjure up an immediate connection in the mind of some of us. Yet, if we employ etymology and take into consideration the terms "text" and "textile" we will soon find a key to unlock the perfect link. Both the words originate indeed from the Latin verb "texere", meaning to weave, but the two terms have also got material and cultural connections.
After all in quite a few legends, stories and novels, fabrics and yarns seem to have a protagonist's role – let's think about the three Fates or Morai, Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos, spinning, measuring and cutting the thread representing the life of a human being; Penelope weaving every day a burial shroud for Odysseus' elderly father Laertes and unravelling it by night to keep her suitors at bay, or Ovid's tale of Arachne, the talented weaver transformed into a spider by Athena, goddess of wisdom and crafts.
These inspirations are at the core of the exhibition "Text and Textile", currently on at Yale University's Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library (until 12th August), and organised by Kathryn James, curator of Early Modern Books and Manuscripts and the Osborn Collection at the Beinecke Library, Katie Trumpener, the Emily Sanford Professor of Comparative Literature and English, and Melina Moe, research affiliate at the library.
The pieces on display were selected from Yale University's collections and combine literature, history, social issues and politics, proving to be a journey through different times and centuries.
Spindles reunite mythology, the dramatic reality of textile mills and the fairy tale dimension of sleeping beauties as proved by the selection in the exhibition including Eve spinning in the margins of a 13th century manuscript, the stories of the mill girls of New England in the 19th century and Arthur Rackham's illustrations for Charles Perrault's "La belle au bois dormant".
Some of the texts featured were selected according to dichotomies such as the domestic Vs the exotic, the industrious Vs the industrial, the department store and the factory floor, the workshop or atelier and the cotton fields, but there is everything for all sorts of tastes here.
Visitors into crafts will fall in love with Renaissance embroidered bindings, with Christa Wolf's "Quilt Memories", an artist's book made from a fragile antique quilt, and comprising dired leaves, petals, poems and newspaper clippings, and with Zelda Fitzgerald’s paper dolls for her daughter.
Graphic designers will be spellbound by Raimondo di Sangro, Prince of Sansevero's "Lettera Apologetica", a very bizarre yet colourful esoteric text allegedly inspired by Incan quipus, a series of knotted colored threads used as a form of communication, and written by the mysterious Neapolitan alchemist; people into technology and textiles will get the chance to see manuscript patterns and loom cards from French Jacquard mills that inspired Charles Babbage's computer technologies and Ada Lovelace's further studies and will be surprised by Jules Laurent's weaving patterns that look like minimalist computer-generated artworks.
Impenitent fashionistas will be more interested instead in Gertrude Stein's waistcoat covered in embroideries of flowers, human figures and animals by her partner Alice B. Toklas, and in the "Souper" paper dress inspired by Andy Warhol's iconic Campbell Soup cans.
There's more to discover among the texts including the first folio edition of William Shakespeare's plays, Edith Wharton’s manuscript drafts of "The House of Mirth", poetry by Langston Hughes, Emily Dickinson, Susan Howe, and Walt Whitman; a copy of Louisa May Alcott's "Spinning-Wheel Stories" from 1884 and Nathaniel Hawthorne's "The Scarlet Letter", dated 1878.
While considering these pieces new comparisons will come to the mind of visitors: for example, we write with a pen or with the help of a computer and, in the same way, we create textiles by hand or using machines; the structure of any language consists of words, while textiles are made with yarns; texts deal with the verbal realm, while textiles focus in the visual dimension, but in both cases it is possible to stop on the surface or to delve deeper and discover the symbolisms and metaphors behind a sentence or the interlocking and overlapping structures of yarns.
The event is accompanied by a parallel exhibition - "Text & Textile in Arts Library Special Collections" at the Robert B. Haas Arts Library (until 6th August; highlights include a late 18th-century recipe for blue dye and a flipbook rendition of Scheherazade's nightly storytelling routine) and by a thematic wall display of works in the Long Gallery at the Yale Center for British Art. These events may not be grand exhibitions, but they prove that you can definitely spin a good tale if you know your history, literature and textiles.
We live for the day: indeed we seem to have collectively developed a passion for producing and consuming everything very quickly – think about fast fashion, but also the immediate pleasure we derive from taking a picture with a smartphone and posting it on Instagram. Yet, sadly, immediacy and super fast rhythms do not guarantee we are producing something remarkably beautiful or something that will last. When you are therefore confronted by extreme beauty produced slowly you feel amazed and astonished.
In yesterday's post we mentioned the twelve vestments commissioned by Empress Maria-Anna Carolina of Austria for Pius the 9th that took fifteeen women and over sixteen years to complete (well, nowadays we are left speechless when we hear it took an atelier from 30 to 100 hours to finish a Haute Couture gown - that's already too much for our standards, so we could never imagine spending years to make one garment...).
Visitors wandering around the Roman Baroque Galleria Colonna, commissioned in the mid-1600s by Cardinal Girolamo I Colonna and his nephew Lorenzo Onofrio Colonna, and inaugurated by Lorenzo Onofrio's son, Philip II, in 1700, will stumble for example in two monumental cabinets in the Hall of the Landscapes, which takes its name from the numerous paintings of rural subjects by Gaspard Dughet.
One cabinet dating 1680 was made by Austrian brothers Dominikus and Franz Stainhart following a project by Carlo Fontana. The brothers were ivory carvers and recreated in 28 panels intricate scenes from the Old and New Testament. The centre of the cabinet depicts the Last Judgment that Michelangelo painted in the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican.
On the opposite wall stands instead a cabinet made of sandalwood and decorated with bronze and precious stones depicting a Roman villa of the era (the project in this case was by Filippo Schor, but the Stainhart brothers were called once again to do the carvings). The console tables in the gallery, including these two cabinets, are supported by submissive figures, who represent the defeated Turks at the Battle of Lepanto.
Believe it or not it took 29 years to complete the ebony and ivory cabinet, but the piece is essentially useless - its main aim wasn't indeed practical, since its function was just surprising visitors.
There are more artworks at the Galleria that prompt visitors to think about doing things slowly: among them there are the wall panels in the embroidery room. The latter is indeed covered in Indian-style tapestries in gold and silk threads from the 17th century. Looks like taking your time to do things well definitely leads to excellent results.
"Catholics live in an enchanted world, a world of statues and holy water, stained glass and votive candles, saints and religious medals, rosary beads and holy pictures. But these Catholic paraphernalia are mere hints of a deeper and more pervasive religious sensibility which inclines Catholics to see the Holy lurking in creation," Father Andrew Greeley, states in his book The Catholic Imagination. Andrew Bolton, head curator of the Metropolitan Museum of Art's Costume Institute, remembered Greeley's quote during the presentation of the exhibition "Heavenly Bodies: Fashion and The Catholic Imagination" that took place at the Galleria Colonna in Rome in February.
Launched by the grand and lavish Met Gala last Monday, the exhibition has now opened and it is currently the most ambitious and largest The Met has ever undertaken. The event is conceived as a sort of pilgrimage for its visitors and covers 25 galleries with spaces designed by Diller Scofidio + Renfro.
The Medieval Galleries offer the chance to explore the hierarchy of the Catholic Church through several designs, among them a red, silk taffeta evening dress from Pierpaolo Piccioli's Valentino Haute Couture A/W 2017 collection inspired by the great cape or "cappa magna" worn by cardinals for solemn liturgical occasions, plus several pieces from Alexander McQueen's last collection.
Among McQueen's designs there is a dress featuring details from Hieronymus Bosch's "The Temptation of St Anthony" and "Hell" (from the "Garden of Earthly Delights" triptych); another gown is inspired by Hugo van der Goes's "Portinari Triptych" while sections of Stefan Lochner's "Altarpiece of the Patron Saints of Cologne" are printed on a silk satin dress with a duck feathers underskirts and matching kid leather gloves.
The cult of the Virgin Mary is evoked by designs by Christian Lacroix, Thierry Mugler, and Jean Paul Gaultier. But visitors will probably be more fascinated by rather unusual vestments they may not see on the runways that were created for Madonna and Child statues by Yves Saint Laurent (for the statue of the Virgin of El Rocío in the Church of Our Lady of Compassion in Paris) or Riccardo Tisci (for the statue of Our Lady of Graces in the Parish of Saint Peter the Apostle in Palagianello).
The Robert Lehman Wing elevates visitors to the celestial realm with saints and angels through Elsa Schiaparelli's gown embroidered with the Saint Peter's keys and Roberto Capucci gold lamé and ivory silk taffeta "Angel of Gold" gown.
In the Met Cloisters visitors can instead get acquainted with garments inspired by Catholic monastic orders and with refined pieces by Madame Grès, Claire McCardell, and Cristóbal Balenciaga (the exhibition boasts the white choral robes Balenciaga designed for the Spanish choir Orfeón Donostiarra, one of the most prestigious amateur choirs in Europe, originally founded in 1897 - maybe the Met spotted the connection between the designer and the choir in one of our previous posts?).
Throughout these galleries the designs are shown alongside religious artworks selected by Griffith Mann, Curator in Charge of the Department of Medieval Art: sadly at times the artworks seem to be just elements that help creating a mysterious, Gothic and wonderful cinematic set or a beautiful fairy tale-like story rather than providing the context to the pieces.
One critique that can be moved to the exhibition is the fact that the selection mainly revolves around Haute Couture and grand designs to create a link with the pomp and circumstance of the Church (but streetwear has borrowed from religion as well...), and that many of the gowns included are by Wintour approved fashion houses, sponsors and American designers (see Rodarte, Versace, Thom Browne and Rick Owens...).
The most surprising pieces included in the event are the forty ecclestiastic papal vestments and accessories - pure masterworks of craftsmanship - from the Sistine Chapel Sacristy, many of which were never showed outside the Vatican.
Displayed in the Anna Wintour Costume Center to preserve an aura of sacredness around them, the objects – from mid-eighteenth to the early twenty-first centuries – include a cope donated to Benedict the 15th from the Handmaids of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and covered in intricate embroideries of the Agnus Dei and the Four Evangelists; twelve vestments commissioned by Empress Maria-Anna Carolina of Austria for Pius the 9th that required fifteen women over sixteen years to complete, and a papal tiara covered in precious stones given to Pius the 9th by Queen Isabella II of Spain.
At the press presentation that took place in February at Galleria Colonna in Rome, a location linked with the cultural and ecclesiastical tradition, Cardinal Gianfranco Ravasi, current President of the Pontifical Council for Culture, seemed more fascinated about the event than Bolton himself.
As Donatella Versace, Pierpaolo Piccioli, Thom Browne and fashion devil Anna Wintour, sat in the front row, Ravasi analysed the power and the symbolism behind clothes, reminding his audience that God appears in the first pages of the Bible as creator and tailor, since in The Genesis we are told that he made tunics from the skins of animals for Adam and Eve.
Dissecting the meaning behind clothes, Ravasi looked at the different dimensions of clothes, moving from their most basic function that is protecting ourselves to a more symbolical one derived from the Latin vestis, and indicating the role and social function of the wearer (think about military uniforms or ecclesiastical garments). The cultural dimension regards instead the world we live in: our clothes do change according to the revolutions society goes through, but also ecclesiastical and liturgical vestments have adapted and mutated throughout the times as proved also by the sacred garments included in this event.
"The last dimension is the one touched upon by this exhibition and it is the sacred dimension," Ravasi stated in his presentation. "All religions have specific clothes and ornaments linked with celebrations and rites. Richly decorated liturgical vestments should never enter ordinary life as they point at a transcendental and mysterious dimension linked with God and therefore considered as marvellous, splendid and sumptuous."
To prove his point, Ravasi remembered the chasubles designed by Matisse for the Chapel of the Rosary of the Dominicans at Vence, a few miles west of Nice: complementing the interior decor of the chapel, the chasubles bring movement to the otherwise static environment and, when Picasso saw them, he stated they were not just sacred vestments, but butterflies flying in God's sky.
In your presentation at Galleria Colonna you stated that sacred vestments and symbols are strongly linked with the spiritual dimension and should therefore not to be donned outside of religious celebrations, but we have seen liturgical stoles and Sikh turbans on Gucci's A/W 18 runway, while Dolce & Gabbana turned papal tiaras into handbags and recreated the Fontana Sisters' pretino dress. Why do you think designers often employ religious symbols in their collections? Cardinal Gianfranco Ravasi: It is not new for creative minds to use certain symbols in their works – think about Andres Serrano's "Piss Christ" or Cattelan's Pope John Paul II lying on the ground struck by a meteorite. I think there is always a strong and at times innate desire to desecrate powerful symbols, a desire that could be deemed as instinctive, rebellious and even childish - if you think about a child who stubbornly does something that is stricly forbidden. Behind all this I can see a very subtle yet positive meaning: people tend indeed to desecrate only figures or symbols that they think are still important or powerful and, by doing so, they end up giving meaning to those symbols, they acknowledge their values. Nobody attacks the symbols of the Roman Empire, they may be grand, but you put them in a museum, you don't feel the need to wound or humiliate them. Religious symbols in an extremely secularised world are instead still important, that's why people feel the need to reference them in a positive or negative way. A while back I was in Munich for a series of lectures and they took me to an exhibition by a photographer who worked on the desacralisation and desacrating themes and who took pictures of walls from which crosses had been removed. Though the symbols weren't there they had left a shadow on the walls and I found that very significant, they proved indeed that the symbols had been physically removed, but they were essentially still there.
So, in your opinion, fashion designers do not use these images linked with religion as they are copyright free? Cardinal Gianfranco Ravasi: Maybe there is also this aspect to consider, but I never thought about it, after all there are many other symbols that are not covered by copyright. But I do think that provocation remains the first and foremost reason why they use them so much.
Some people may consider fashion as unfitting to engage in a dialogue with religion: can Holy Couture and Haute Couture really live together or is there a risk in the case of this exhibition of critics accusing the Vatican of collaborating with an industry that revolves around materialistic values? Cardinal Gianfranco Ravasi: Without a doubt we are entering in a world that represents in many ways the illnesses of our times: the emphasis on superficial or banal things, on the exterior, on the dimension of the so-called "nothing underneath", is obvious in fashion. For some people clothes are the most important thing in their lives and indifference and superficiality often reveal themselves as the dominating trends in our society. Yet the church must get in touch with this dimension, in the same way it must reach out to those places where there is the presence of evil, of negativity and corruption. When I lived in Milan I was often contacted by representatives of the fashion industry, after all there are people also in this industry who go through dramatic and traumatic human experiences and who may feel the need to come in touch with another reality - think about models who seem to lead a secular yet ascetic life that can end up being pretty brutal. The fashion industry is in search of beauty and this is one of the great values of the history of the church as well and I do feel that it is necessary to establish a connection between these two worlds, this is why I think this exhibition is very relevant for our times.
Yet you would agree that this view of luxury is very much removed from Pope Francis' vision of the church... Cardinal Gianfranco Ravasi: This is an aspect that should certainly be considered. In the fashion industry there is a component of excess, of luxury for its own sake, and we must take into consideration these elements from a moral and religious point of view. But together with negative things there are also good things, as Saint Paul writes in the fifth chapter of the First Letter to the Thessalonians when he says "Put all things to the test: keep what is good" - and Saint Paul uses the expression τὸ καλόν that indicates the beautiful and in the language of the New Testament, the good. I think we could encourage big players in the industry to consider their vast riches and come up with interesting funding projects. For example, a while back I visited with a delegation of women from my ministry the women's prison of Rebibbia in Rome. Among the visitors there was also Lavinia Biagiotti, daughter of the late fashion designer Laura who was very religious, and we discussed the possibility of sending a dressmaker and some fabrics to the women serving in jail. I think these initiatives could be encouraged also in other environments and cases.
Will the profits from these loans be used by the Vatican for other projects? Cardinal Gianfranco Ravasi: I don't know the details as this aspect was taken care of by the Sacristy of the Sistine Chapel, but when I was in Milan I made sure that whenever there were loans of materials that were paid for, the money would be used for specific aims such as restoration projects. I think in this case any profits from the loans may go to charitable projects by Pope Francis or again towards restoration projects. The latter are as important as the former: as that proverb says "if you have two loaves of bread, keep one to nourish the body, but sell the other to buy hyacinths for the soul", in a nutshell, food is important for physical nourishment, but so is something that can lighten your mood, make you happy and fill your heart with beauty.
While living and working in Milan, you often got in touch with fashion designers: did they show any genuine interest in religion or did they have any questions about life-related matters? Cardinal Gianfranco Ravasi: I was often criticised by the media for my choice of looking not just at the religious horizon but for trying to go beyond certain borders and reaching out to dialogue with other worlds. I have recently developed for example an interest in genetics, AI and neurosciences as I think these are fundamental fields, because they are changing anthropology and human beings, and this is why I want to get in touch with representatives from these disciplines. I have always thought that it is important to learn from each other and dialogue, after all, as Plato says in Socrates' Dialogue a life without enquiry is not worth living. Whenever I met fashion designers I often found myself amazed when I discovered that the themes linked to the Gospels are very relevant for them, I think that the Gospel has still got the power to scandalise and provoke. We are living in a world in which there aren't distinct boundaries between the good and the bad and I think that the world of fashion incarnates and represents the general situation of this world. Scientists may have all the answers, fashion designers may have wealth and material things, but when an ecclesiastical figure speaks to them, they often ask you questions about the meaning of life, love, death, pain and sorrows. These are important issues also for fashion designers and this makes you think a lot because contemporary culture focuses on technological and scientific languages, but it looks like the languages that may provide us with higher answers come from the artistic and religious fields.
In 2013 I was commisioned a piece about fashion and religion for a Russian publication. The piece moved from a bill that was being discussed at the time by the Russian government and that aimed at protecting the religious feelings of citizens (it was probably prompted by the protest performance of feminist punk rock group Pussy Riot inside Moscow's Cathedral of Christ the Savior in February 2012...). The feature was focused on artists and designers who employed religious symbols in their works in different ways.
While doing my background research for the piece I contacted several fashion houses requesting interviews or brief quotes. Most of them never answered, others said they were too busy. The House of Versace, current sponsor of the Costume Instituite at the Met Museum exhibition "Heavenly Bodies: Fashion and The Catholic Imagination", declined to answer my questions (the text of the email said: "Thank you very much but we'd rather not take part in this project" View this photo). Who knows, maybe at the time they were just scared to offend their Russian readers or they weren't ready to jump on the religious bandwagon yet. There were a few people keen to answer, though, among them Micol Fontana from the Fontana Sisters (remember the "pretino dress"?) and Oliviero Toscani, the Italian photographer who produced in his career controversial adverts for Benetton.
I have decided to republish today the original text in English for that piece. There aren't a lot of images in this post, but readers know what I'm referring to as the background research for this piece was published a long time ago on this site (and was anticipated and followed by many other pieces exploring the cultural and legal issues behind the fashion and religion connection). This is dedicated to all those PR officers and designers who made my research difficult at the time and who have now jumped on the Catholic bandwagon (since now it seems so cool to do so).
Profanity in the Eye of the Beholder - by Anna Battista (2013)
Russia wants to protect the religious feelings of the self-righteous, but can a society in which the secular and the mundane are often invested with a sacred aura and in which religious symbols are often employed as provocation, accept that?
The tension between sacred and profane, the debate about mere provocation and genuine crimes against religion are not new topics in the creative industries. Throughout the decades the illegitimate use of religious symbols often brought accusations of lack of respect, desecration, bad taste and blapshemy. For example, the first denim label launched in Italy in the early '70s had a rather questionable name - Jesus Jeans. The most controversial thing about it, though, was its advertising campaign by Oliviero Toscani and Emanuele Pirella with slogans such as "Thou shalt not have any other jeans but me" and "All who love me will follow me", the latter printed on the denim-clad buttocks of model Donna Jordan. Considered outrageous, the campaigns sparked many debates, yet Toscani went on to cause more mayhem in the years that followed: he infuriated the Vatican with a 1992 Benetton advert aimed at challenging religious celibacy and showing a nun kissing a priest, and caused further controversy last year when he employed for Benetton's "Unhate" campaign a photoshopped image of Pope Benedict XVI kissing Sheikh Ahmed Mohamed el-Tayeb. "I was often criticised, but I was never legally charged for my photographs and adverts," Oliviero Toscani recounts. "My main aim is not offending someone's religious feelings, but criticising religion, in the same way as other people may criticise political power." Toscani doesn't seem to find anything wrong in deliberately provoking controversy. "I don't understand why provoking has got to have a negative connotation, I personally think that it can be a very positive strategy for eliciting interest, talk, cultural debates and even bring on new opportunities," he states.
The photographer's words implicitly disagree with the State Duma passing the first reading of a bill aimed at protecting the religious feelings of Russian citizens. Under the draft document, those who offend religious feelings at church services and ceremonies or at holy sites face up jail, fines or compulsory community service. "Art is a form of communication and so is religion, and the right of expressing and criticising are extremely important in a democratic society," Toscani comments.
“Wherever religion presents itself it is frightening; wherever people censor art, it is a scandal. Serious work has to sustain thoughts and emotions that go with aesthetic contemplation with no regard for markets, trends or fashions," adds American photographer Cheyco Leidmann, famous for establishing in the '80s a new style characterised by an eye-grabbing visual power verging between the kitsch and the garish. The Paris-based photographer recently created a controversial altarpiece entitled "Zeta Nacht". Equally appreciated and attacked, the artwork is conceived as a triptych aimed at criticising mass consumption, materialism and the lure of powerful illusions through images of nude models and modern idols. Considered profane by some, Leidmann's altarpiece is a symbol of a consumer society desenchanted with conventional religions that has transformed spirituality into consumption.
Fashion remains one of the creative arts that has borrowed the most from religion. Religious inspiration is currently an object of consumption for many fashionistas, most of them certainly not interested in finding holiness through their wardrobes or criticising the power of the Church.
Decontextualised religious imagery is all over the current collections, from Dolce & Gabbana's richly embroidered dresses, featuring images of mosaics lifted from Sicily's Cathedral of Monreale (Fall 2013). If you can afford it, you may even opt for D&G's Spring/Summer 13 high fashion collection that includes a golden wedding outfit complete with crown and veil that perfectly reproduces the attire of certain statues of the Virgin Mary. Fashionistas who want to comment on the excesses of Catholicism, can instead go for Sarah Burton's Fall 2013 collection for Alexander McQueen, with its punk representation of nuns, cardinals and the Pope. Bizarrelly enough, while the bill protecting religious feelings was being passed in Russia, somewhere else in Sydney during the local fashion week, the placid face of Jesus reappeared (excuse the pun...) on Karla Spetic's dresses, tops and skirts, bringing the memory of fashion historians back to disputes and debates about fashion consuming and desecrating religion.
There are obviously enough religion-themed garments also for what regards menswear: Riccardo Tisci delved once again into the depths of his Catholic education for his S/S 2013 menswear collection for Givenchy that includes duchess satin and organza tops with images of the Virgin Mary altered to resemble an evanescent and sensual ghost, or prints sampled from William Adolphe Bouguereau's paintings "The seated Madonna", "The Madonna of the Roses", "The Madonna of the Lilies" and "The Pietà". Those who prefer the more classic Fellini-esque obsession with Catholicism will find enough inspirations in D&G's Fall 13 menswear collection featuring tops with prints of images of assorted saints, of Our Lady of Fatima and the three shepherd children; shirts with priests on bicycles, scarves that look like clergy stoles and, for the evening, lace jackets that seem to reproduce the intricacies of fine sacramental linens.
The list of exchanges between fashion and religion is actually pretty long and goes back to the late '30s when Elsa Schiaparelli borrowed the symbols of the Vatican flag and embroidered Saint Peter’s keys on an evening suit; twenty years later, the Sorelle Fontana created the "pretino" dress (literally "little priest dress"), while Chanel and Balenciaga took inspiration from the opulence of Byzantium. "The little priest dress was created in 1956," remembers Micol Fontana, "the dress was the result of a sort of combination between creativity, friendship with Ava Gardner and respect for the religious institutions. My sisters and I - all faithful practicing Catholics - asked the authorities the permission to do the dress and the Vatican approved it. Their positive answer filled us with pride and gratitude." Voluptuous Anita Ekberg donned a similar version of the "pretino" in Fellini's film La Dolce Vita, disturbing the bourgeois consciences of the self-righteous. Krizia recreated two models of the same dress in the '90s, but by then Italy had grown accustomed to the religion and fashion connection.
As the years passed, the religious theme became a folkloristic product of consumption and the secular and the mundane were invested with a sacred aura: Thierry Mugler's fashion show for his Autumn/Winter 1984-85 collection featured nuns, cherubs, a Madonna and Child; in the '90s Gianni Versace turned polychrome icons of the Virgin and Child into beaded punk decorations for halter tops; Hasidic Jews, the crucified Christ, the bleeding Sacred Heart and the Communion chalice, all reappeared in Jean-Paul Gaultier's collections.
The Patron Designer of the Kitsch and Shock, Versace was among the first ones to tangibly prove that, if sex sells, so does religion. The designer successfully reworked in some of his sensual creations from the early '90s monumental crosses and elements inspired by the opulent and gilded Byzantine mosaics in Ravenna, turning them into punk motifs, borrowing icons of the Virgin and Child and transforming them into polychrome beaded decorations for halter tops. Icons and crosses also characterised Versace's screen-printed twill scarves and the Greek cross motif came back a few years later in Versace’s glamorous gold evening gowns. Before Versace, Chanel and Balenciaga were inspired by the opulence of Byzantium, a theme Karl Lagerfeld explored again in Chanel’s Pre-Fall 2011, borrowing ideas for his designs from the mosaics in the Basilica of Sant'Apollinare Nuovo.
Yet not all designers mean to be offensive, controversial or exploitative and not all of them may use their skills to criticise religious powers and offend the sensibilities of the self-righteous. In 1992 the late swimwear designer Lea Gottlieb created a collection entitled "Jerusalem of Gold". The latter featured garments decorated with Jewish symbols including the Star of David, the Menorah, and the priestly breastplate (Hoshen) inlaid with twelve gems in twelve squares representing the twelve tribes of Israel. After Gottlieb's death, some garments from the collection were found in her bedroom drawers folded in silk paper with a Siddur (prayer book) besides them. Ayala Raz, curator of the exhibition "Lady of the Daisies", currently remembering Lea Gottlieb at Design Museum Holon, states: "As far as I know there was never any objection for using these Symbols; on the contrary, she was mostly respected for using Jewish sources of inspiration, while representing Israel abroad".
In the '80s pop star Madonna, appropriated religious imagery into her music and her lifestyle, appearing in her videos wearing rosary beads and crosses as necklaces, and sparking a huge debate when in the video for "Like a Prayer" she seemed to develop stigmata and had a vision of a black saint kissing her. Yet in our times things seem to have radically changed: we have grown so accustomed to seeing religion entering fashion that nobody - not even the Church - criticises models wearing luxurious bags covered in Miraculous Medals or gold and silver heart-shaped ex-votos pinned at the waist or used as jewellery or questions style icon Anna Dello Russo cavorting outside the latest fashion shows in a D&G black cloak with golden floral embroderies that simply replicates the traditional dress donned by statues of Our Lady of Sorrows.
Many designers find the pomp-and-circumstance of the Church, the craftsmanship behind the rich vestments, and the beauty of some icons and statues incredibly inspiring. Being copyright free religious imagery also offers designers the chance to base entire looks on religious paintings and icons with no fear of ending up in court for copyright infringement. So religion became an object of profane consumption for fashionistas certainly not interested in finding holiness through their wardrobes.
While religious spokespersons harshly commented about designers exploiting religion and about the appropriation of religious symbols by celebrities and fashion designers, others highlighted the faults of a Church too often interested in secular matters. Yet, politicians in the West never mentioned the possibility of introducing punishment for all those ones wearing garments that somehow offended religious feelings. After all, if beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so is profanity and while to somebody it may be offensive, desecrating, blasphemous and in bad taste seeing a millionaire bride getting married in a designer gown that resembles a dress donned by a holy statue in a Catholic church, the millionaire wearing it may think it's perfectly fine.
In 2002 a long-forgotten play entitled Elle and written by Jean Genet was staged in New York. Its cast included Alan Cumming as The Pope and outrageous costumes by Vivienne Westwood. Genet originally wrote it as an attack against the Catholic Church, but the play also touched upon many modern obsessions including celebrity and the power of the image. At a certain point in the play, The Pope wonders if when a man kneels at his foot, he venerates the foot or if it's the act of kneeling that is significant. In a way, the key to understand if a law punishing reigious offences is right or wrong hides in the Pope's dilemma in this scandalous Genet's play: is it the foot you're venerating or the act of kneeling that is significant? In a nutshell, is it religion or is it the pomp and circumstance, the apparatus around it and its links with the state and with politics that you're venerating when you issue a law that protects religious feelings? The answer is yours, but, in the meantime, it may be useful to remember that quite often profanity, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder.
