Irenebrination: Notes on Architecture, Art, Fashion, Fashion Law, Science & Technology

In Solidarity with the Strong and Fearless Iranian Women Read a Graphic Novel by Marjane Satrapi

A month has gone since the death in custody in Iran of a 22-year-old Kurdish woman, Mahsa Amini, detained by the "morality police" for being in violation of the dress code for women. The death of Amini sparked protests in Iran that are now entering into their fifth week.

Starting with calls for an end to the compulsory hijab and the withdrawal of the morality police from the streets, now the protests have turned into a rebellion against the theocratic regime. The latest news from Iran regard a fire that engulfed the Evin prison in Tehran. Evin is known for serious human rights abuses against its prisoners, among them political dissidents and critics of the government, for its brutal interrogation techniques and use of solitary confinement.

The official state news agency stated the incident started after a fight broke out among prisoners in a sewing workshop and have nothing to do with the recent unrest in the country. But relatives of the prisoners challenged this reconstruction, claiming the protests reached inside the prison and security officials repressed the prisoners and ignited the fire to cover their tracks.

There are different ways to show solidarity with people bravely protesting in Iran, as we have seen in a previous post. Art can also inspire us to learn more about Iran. For example, at the moment there is an auction dedicated to graphic novel and art fans at Sotheby's in London: the "Persepolis" auction (open for bidding until 25th October) offers to collectors the first 44 original book art pages for Persepolis (Volume 1) by Iranian artist, author, screenwriter and director Marjane Satrapi.

The multi-million selling semi-autobiographical graphic novel series Persepolis, published 22 years ago and also turned into a film in 2007, tells the story of Iranian Marji, who we meet at the age of ten, in 1980, while the Iranian Revolution has shaken the nation to its core and the Iran-Iraq war is getting underway.

If you haven't read them yet, Satrapi's Persepolis and Persepolis 2 are a great way to learn more about the author's childhood in Tehran, Iran, her bohemian years in Europe and her return to her home country. If you want to explore the universe of women and pick a title that has got something to do with textile art (but bear in mind that the title is a metaphor for something very different from your ordinary crafts...), opt for Satrapi's Embroideries (2005).

In this graphic novel, a group of female relatives and friends - Satrapi's grandmother, her mother, an eccentric aunt, their neighbours and the author herself - gathers after lunch and tell each other tales of love, pleasure and sex.

The dominant character is the grandmother, a highly independent woman, bad tempered in the morning, sweet and caring after her morning tea spiced up with a bit of opium.

"To speak behind others' back is a ventilation of the heart," she says at the beginning of the book and, after her statement, the confessions start. As if they were creating an embroidered tapestry, the women share secrets and tales about how to fake one's virginity and the "full embroidery" operation (in which a woman's vagina is sewn to restore her virginity); which are the advantages of being a mistress and why the penis is not as aesthetically good looking as the vagina.

The narration goes from one woman to another: Satrapi's grandmother recounts how she helped a friend trapped in an arranged marriage; Aunt Parvine, the artist of the group, tells about how she escaped, at the age of 13, her arranged marriage to an old man, by scaling a garden wall and hiding out with her aunt until he died; family friend Amineh remembers how her husband was forced to leave the country a short time after their wedding, after the Shah returned to power. But when she joined him in Berlin months later, she realised he was betraying her with other women.

The style used in Embroideries mirrors the content: Satrapi breaks from the traditional frame-by-frame structure and draws in most of the pages only a character or two, concentrating on the stories they are telling. Her drawings pull the readers into this circle of women and make them feel part of their conversation.

Witty, entertaining, powerful and humorous, Embroideries is celebration of women and reading it (or any graphic novel by Satrapi) may be a way to show your solidarity with the strong and fearless Iranian women who for a month have bravely protested in the streets for their rights and for freedom.  

Documenting Fashion (While Protecting a Couturier's Copyrights): "Tom Kublin for Balenciaga. An Unusual Collaboration" @ The Cristóbal Balenciaga Museum, Getaria, Spain

It is not rare, in the history of fashion, for a photographer to be associated with a specific house or designer. Quite often, indeed, the style of that photographer helped defining the codes of that fashion house.

For example, between the '50s and the '60s Balenciaga's image was defined by the production of Tom Kublin. The photographer is currently celebrated in an exhibition - "Tom Kublin for Balenciaga. An Unusual Collaboration" - at the the Cristóbal Balenciaga Museum in Getaria, Spain (on until tomorrow).

Born in 1924, in Zalaszentgrot, Hungary, into a middle-class family, Kublin first served in the Hungarian army as a photographer during World War II. At the end of the conflict, he moved to Zurich, where he opened a photographic studio specialized in advertising.
 
While working in Switzerland, Kublin got the chance to discover the local textile industry and worked for over two decades for the Abraham silk company. It was this association with Abraham, supplier of the leading Haute Couture houses, that allowed Kublin to meet Cristóbal Balenciaga in the mid-1950s.

The photographer first shot designs by Balenciaga in 1954 for the British edition of Harper's Bazaar. In the same year, he started photographing for the house of Balenciaga and established a friendship with the couturier (the collaboration continued until the sudden death of the photographer in 1966).

Kublin established a precise style with his classic glamorous images like the one portraying a model in a large Balenciaga silk tulle and organza hat that half-shadowed her face, but his pictures also had an important purpose.

Fashion piracy was already a concern for couturiers in the early 20th century, but by the mid-20th century the problem had worsened, especially in the United States, and it seriously affected Balenciaga.

Kublin was commissioned to take pictures of the designs in Balenciaga's collections for documentary purposes and to protect their copyright.

These images could be defined as "fashion mug shots" as they portayed models posing from the front, back and sometimes profile, holding the number of the design in their hands. In this way, the details of each creation were recorded and, if necessary, Balenciaga's authorship could be demonstrated.

In the '60s Kublin started filming (in black and white and with a static camera) the collections also with this purpose in mind.

From the 1965 winter collection onwards, he began to edit the films and included an introduction with close-ups of hats and background music, even though Balenciaga presentations were carried out in silence. As the years passed, the films of the collections were no longer strictly archival and began to resemble advertisements: his last films for the house, now available in colour, introduced for example choreography.

"Tom Kublin for Balenciaga. An Unusual Collaboration", celebrates the relationship between the designer and the phoptographer through 100 photographs and 5 film excerpts (including an advert for Balenciaga's perfume Le Dix and a short film featuring Cristóbal Balenciaga, in which the couturier can be seen working on the final touches to his 1966 summer collection before its presentation).

Curators and historians will be more interested in the photographs of designs made with Abraham silks on commission by the Swiss maison, while fashion photography fans will instead prefer the more artistic and glamorous images published in Harper's Bazaar, Jardin des Modes and Town & Country. In this case it is interesting to note that, while nowadays fashion editors select the designs from the collections they wanted to publish as well as the photographers who should do the shoot, Balenciaga provided, except in exceptional cases, photographs of the designs he was interested in publicizing.

The best images in the exhibition remain the "fashion mug shots": created internally for the Balenciaga maison and currently part of the collection of the photographer's daughter, Maria Kublin, these images (on show for the first time) may not be glamorous, but they are extremely important as they show that copyright protection in fashion was considered a vital issue already in the '50s.

A Fashion Accessory as a Metaphor: The Hat in Gustav Adolf Mossa's "La Légende de Judith"

In yesterday's post we looked at lawsuit regarding a work of art reproduced on a fashion collection. For today let's continue the art thread, but let's look at the way a painter, Gustav Adolf Mossa, used a hat to create a metaphor about women. 

In his paintings, Gustav Adolf Mossa often focused on women portrayed as femme fatale figures with a malevolent sexuality. Introduced to the Art Nouveau while studying at the School of Decorative Arts in Nice, Mossa became interested in the Symbolist movement after visiting the Exposition Universelle in 1900, turning for inspiration to the art of Symbolist painter Gustave Moreau and Symbolist writers, such as Charles Baudelaire, Stéphane Mallarmé, and Joris-Karl Huysmans.

Quite often in his works, Mossa turned to Biblical sources, offering modern versions of Judith, Delilah and Salome, that he combined with his vision of the New Woman emerging at the the turn of the century, whom he considered perverse by nature.

In his "La Légende de Judith" (The Legend of Judith; currently part of the "19th-Century Works of Art" auction at Sotheby's in New York), the main subject looks a bit like a caricature: in an elegant green coat with geometrical decorations and enormous feathered black hat, the Old Testament heroine Judith is turned into a modern-day femme fatale. Holofernes' headless corpse is in the background, visible through the window, while Judith is in the foreground, literally holding Holofernes in her clutch(es), as she is intent in putting the head that looks tiny in her hands, in her beaded evening purse.

The dimensions of Judith's hat juxtaposed to Holofernes' head are a way to point at her frivolous attitude: Judith may be perverse, Mossa seems to tell us, but she is also devoted to the latest fashion trends and therefore she is to be considered not a woman of substance, but a superficial lady. Yet, at the same time, Judith ends up occupying most of the painting with her extravagant hat, dominating it and subverting through it the painter's misogynist metaphor, turning into a cruel and cold, but also powerful, woman.

Our Venus, Their Venus, Whose Venus: Somebody Save Us from Another Lawsuit Involving Botticelli (The Uffizi Gallery Vs Jean Paul Gaultier)

Fashion functions in circles and what was trendy in previous decades tends to become fashionable again after 20 or 30 years have passed. But now it looks like we have a new trend courtesy of the Uffizi Gallery in Florence - the return of the fashion lawsuit concerning Botticelli's Venus.

The offending party this time is Jean Paul Gaultier: the French designer launched a capsule collection in April this year entitled "Le Musée". The latter features garments with prints of Sandro Botticelli's "The Birth of Venus", Pieter Paul Rubens' "The Three Graces", and Michelangelo's "The Creation of Adam" on tops, pants, skirts and dresses.

It was recently announced that The Uffizi took legal action against the use of Botticelli's "Birth of Venus" in the collection. This is not the first time that the institution complains about the use of Botticelli's painting.

Last year, the museum took offense when Pornhub included in its "Classic Nudes" series a clip with Cicciolina as Botticelli's Venus.

The official statement released by the Uffizi on Monday claimed Gaultier used the image "without asking for permission", and didn't pay the fee provided for by law.

"According to the Codice dei beni culturali e del paesaggio (the Italian Code of Cultural Heritage and Landscape, also known as Cultural Heritage Code, CHC) the use of images under the Italian public propriety is compulsorily subjected to a specific authorization and the payment of a fee," the Uffizi stated.

The cultural institution explained that the museum's legal office had sent a letter of formal notice to the fashion company back in April, but the notification was "substantially ignored" by the fashion house.

The general rule states that works are usually protected by copyright for 70 years after the death of their author; "The Birth of Venus" was painted in the mid-1480s, so it is usually considered as being in the public domain, free from copyright around the world.

Yet Article 10 of the CHC states that any object with a "cultural interest", from an artistic, historical, archaeological or ethno-anthropological viewpoint, may be declared of cultural interest and, consequently, classified as "cultural property", whether it is owned by a public entity (state, region, municipality), a private entity (corporation or not-for-profit organisation) or an individual. 

More specifically: objects with a cultural interest made by non-living authors more than 70 years ago may be declared of cultural interest; objects made by living artists or by non-living artists less than 50 years ago cannot be declared of cultural interest and are not subject to cultural heritage protection. Objects with a cultural interest made by a non-living author between 50 and 70 years ago may be declared of cultural interest only if they show an exceptional interest for the integrity and completeness of the Italian cultural heritage.

The article offers therefore a way to control for-profit reproductions of Italian cultural heritage, irrespective of their copyright status.

Yet, there may be some ways for Gaultier to avoid the lawsuit: first of all, certain uses though do not fall under the CHC obligations, including "the reproduction of such images by private individuals for personal use and for the purpose of study, research, creative expression, or enhancement of cultural heritage." Gaultier may turn to creative expression in connection with these designs, indeed he didn't use the entire painting here, but sections remixed together in the garments. Besides, Gaultier's capsule that claims to promote art, so the fashion house may even claim it was enhancing cultural heritage.

Museums usually do not own copyrights of the artworks they own or preserve but hold permission to use an artwork as a whole or as a part and Gaultier may prove he has derived the images in "Le Musée" not from protectable reproductions of "The Birth of Venus" as owned by the museum. 

There is another way for Gaultier to escape it all: proving that others haven't paid in previous cases and creating in this way a precedent. There are hundreds if not thousands of examples in which artists, designers, fashion designers, illustrators and assorted creative minds, used "The Birth of Venus" for commercial purposes.

In a previous post, we mentioned a wide range of artists including Andy Warhol, Tomoko Nagao (the logo-covered "Birth of Venus"), David LaChapelle ("Rebirth of Venus") and many more. Fashion-wise Dolce & Gabbana used the Venus in a 1990s halter dress and in a pantsuit and dress from their S/S 1993 collection.

On top of that Gaultier was sued only by The Uffizi, but he also used prints of Rubens and Michelangelo and he wasn't sued by the Museo del Prado that owns Rubens' paintings nor by The Vatican Museums ("The Creation of Adam" is a fresco part of the Sistine Chapel which is located inside the Vatican Museums; rights to take pictures or film the Sistine Chapel belonged to Nippon TV till the '90s as they had funded the restoration).

Maybe Gaultier should have been sued in this case not for using the painting, but for his rather banal choice, after all, we have seen Botticelli’s Venus all over the place. Next time, though, we would like to see a proper collaboration between a museum and a designer, like Pacsun's "The Study of Fine Arts: Highlights from The Met", a capsule collection in collaboration with The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. The capsule in this case features a wide variety of pieces including sweatsuits, t-shirts, hats, socks, inspired by Tiepolo, Latour and Van Gogh's artworks and obviously authorised by the museum.

As for the Uffizi, they have a record of suing people for using their artworks: a while back they even sued Italian waste collection company Alia for depicting Michelangelo's David in a hi-vis jacket and a red broomstick. So, if you're a fashion designer and want to use a painting, opt for one which is not in the Uffizi collection, and check out permissions in your country and in the rest of the world.

Last, but not least, for art's sake, please leave Botticelli's Venus alone, maybe opt for somebody less known and a bit angrier, stronger and fiercer à la Artemisia Gentileschi (bearing in mind that also her Judith beheading Holofernes is at the Uffizi…). After all, in our troubled times Venus is terribly passé.

Museums as Places of Solidarity with Iranian Protesters

In yesterday's post we looked at a timely art exhibition, giving new visibility to women written out of history in Iran. Protests - sparked by the death of 22-year-old Mahsa Amini in the custody of the morality police after they arrested her for being in violation of the dress code for women - are now in their fourth week.

While the government forces's response has been brutal and the regime is cracking down on protesters with hundreds arrested, wounded and killed, according to human rights organization, protests are continuing and it was recently announced that also the workers from the country's vital oil sector will be going on strike. 

The regime may have shut down the Internet across the country, but videos showing the violence of the police are still being leaked. During the last few weeks, in the images and footage from Iran, we have seen women ripping off their headscarves, burning their hijabs and cutting their hair. The latter is a practice cited in Persian literature as a sign of protest, anger or mourning.

In the Shahnameh, a 1,000-year-old Persian epic poem written by Hakīm Abul-Qāsim Firdawsī Tūsī (Ferdowsi), that recounts the history of pre-Islamic Persia or Iranshahr (Greater Iran), when the hero Siyavash is killed, his wife Farangis and the girls accompanying her cut their hair to protest injustice. 

Women cutting their hair in Iran did so in anger, to show they don't care about the government definition of beauty and to protest against the control of women's bodies and the suppression of women's rights.

While Iranian living in other countries supported the protests cutting or shaving their hair in public or on videos posted on social media, women from all over the world, joined in to show solidarity. Among the latest, there were also a group of French actresses, including Juliette Binoche and Marion Cotillard.

Last week Iraqi-born Swedish lawmaker and MEP Abir Al Sahlani, cut her hair during a speech at a debate about the protests at the European Union's Parliament in Strasbourg. "Until the women of Iran are free, we are going to stand with you," she stated as she cut a lock of her hair. "Women, life, freedom!"

This poignant form of protest recently arrived in museums: in Italy, both the MAXXI museum in Rome and the Triennale in Milan, are inviting visitors to cut their hair and place it in a box. The boxes will be delivered to the Consulate General of the Islamic Republic of Iran in Italy as a peaceful gesture of protest against the murderous violence of the police.

Will other museums join in? Well, even though it is a very small gesture, compared to the heroism of the protesters in Iran, it is still an act of solidarity with those who are risking their lives to defend the inalienable right to individual freedom, so let's hope there will be more cultural institutions all over the world keen on organising events such as these ones in support of Iranian protesters. 

Formidable Women of Iran: "Soheila Sokhanvari - Rebel Rebel" @ The Curve, The Barbican Centre, London

It is often surprising how art exhibitions seem to create a timely commentary to current events.

Throughout the month of September, we have seen demonstrations in Iran. The protests sparked after the death in custody of a 22-year-old Kurdish woman, Mahsa Amini, detained by the Gasht-e Ershad, the "morality police", for being in violation of the dress code for women.

Protests, focused on women's rights and against the hijab that the theocratic regime enforces as mandatory, spread to different cities in Iran, but found support all over the world. In many images and footage, we have seen women cutting off their hair, a symbol of mourning and protesting in Iranian literature.

During the protests there were other victims, including two 16-year-old girls, Nika Shakarami, whose mother states she was beaten to death by regime forces, and Sarina Esmailzadeh, who posted vlogs on YouTube and who was killed when security forces beat her with batons at a protest in Gohardasht.

The protest movement is the biggest challenge to the Iranian regime's authority in decades and is proving there is a younger generation of angry and brave young women fighting against restrictions on their daily lives.

There is an exhibition that opened last week at the Barbican Centre's The Curve, in London, that could help us learning more about Iranian indomitable women and their lives between 1925 and the 1979 revolution - "Soheila Sokhanvari: Rebel Rebel"  (until 26th February 2023).

With a title inspired by David Bowie's 1974 eponymous song, the exhibition of the Iranian artist born in Shiraz and currently living and working in Cambridge, features 27 portraits of Iranian feminist icons.

When I was invited for this commission, I knew immediately how I wanted to respond: with a body of work that would transport visitors to the pulse of life in pre-revolutionary Iran and to the women at the heart of that culture," Soheila Sokhanvari stated in a press release. 

The miniatures, painted in egg tempera onto calf vellum with a squirrel-hair brush, are hung against a hand-painted mural based on Islamic geometries decorating the 90-metre gallery, transformed for the occasion into a devotional space where the stories of these feminist icons can be contemplated.

Among the women portrayed there are Roohangiz Saminejad, the first Iranian unveiled actress to appear in a Persian language film; iconic actor and singer Googoosh (Faegheh Atashin) who popularised the miniskirt and a hairstyle called the Googooshy; the controversial modernist poet Forough Farrokhzad; the leading intellectual and writer Simin Dāneshvar; film stars Zari Khoshkam and Nosrat Partovi, and Masoumeh Azizi Borujerdi, better known as Mahvash, an Iranian singer, dancer, film actress and stage performer. 

All the women shine in the portraits: the images may be taken from old black and white portraits, but in the paintings they are dressed in vibrantly coloured designs in Western styles, in environments with sofas, wallpaper or rugs covered in bold geometric patterns that wouldn't look out of place on a Prada runway.

Some of the women in the paintings have red varnished nails or hold cigarettes, they wear jewelry and have glamorous hairstyles that in some cases are reminiscent of Italian film star Gina Lollobrigida's. All these elements are in contrast with the strict codes introduced by the theocratic regime and also make us think about the pictures of the young students killed in the recent protests, pictured wearing the veil in the streets, and at home, in colourful tops and dyed hair. 

While some of the women portrayed by Sokhanvari aligned with the rules introduced in 1979 (Khoshkam, for example, who carried on acting repenting her past ways and changing her name), most of them didn't and were therefore silenced and written out of history.

Film-maker Kobra Saeedi, who protested on International Women's Day 1979 against the introduction of compulsory hijab, was jailed and confined for years in mental institutions; film star Parvin Kheirbakhsh, known as Forouzan, was thrown in prison in 1979, had all her property taken away by the courts and died unknown and forgotten.

Visitors can discover more about the biographies of these female heroes in the printed gallery guide or by phone-scanning a QR code. The event culminates in mirrored sculptures featuring internal projections drawn from classic Iranian cinema.

"Rebel Rebel" is accompanied by a soundtrack by Marios Aristopoulos, featuring songs by celebrated Iranian singers from the mid-20th century, including Ramesh and Googoosh - a poignant gesture as women were banned from singing in 1979 and it remains illegal for a woman's voice to be broadcast in Iran.

"I hope that visitors will revel in the opportunity to learn about the lives of these formidable women, who gave up everything to pursue their creativity," states Sokhanvari about her exhibition.

While you will definitely learn more about these women through Sokhanvari's works, the best thing about them is that the paintings give their visibility back to women who were banned and literally erased from history. Expect some of these works to be featured in further exhibitions, who knows, maybe at the Fondazione Prada in Milan or integrated in a Prada show.

Image credits for this post

All images in this post © Soheila Sokhanvari. Courtesy of the artist and Kristin Hjellegjerde Gallery.

Let Us Believe in the Beginning of the Cold Season (Portrait of Forough Farrokhzad), 2022

Hey, Baby I'm a Star (Portrait of Fouzan), 2019 

The Love Addict (Portrait of Googoosh), 2019

Wild at Heart (Portrait of Pouran Shapoori), 2019 

Rhapsody of Innocence (Portrait of Monir Vakili), 2022 

The Lor Girl (Portrait of Roohangiz Saminejad), 2022 

Only the Sound Remains (Portrait of Ramesh), 2021

Rebel (Portrait of Zinat Moadab), 2021 

Eve (Portrait of Katayoun (Amir Ebrahimi)), 2021

A Dream Deferred (Portrait of Haydeh Changizian), 2022 

Tobeh (Portrait of Zari Khoshkam), 2020

Fanology: The Folding Fan from Fashion Accessory to Conveyor of Hidden Messages & Feminist Slogans

"Lady Windermere: There is not a good woman in London who would not applaud me. We have been too lax. We must make an example, I propose to begin tonight. (Picking up fan) Yes, you gave me this fan today; it was your birthday present. If that woman crosses my threshold, I shall strike her across the face with it," Lady Windermere's Fan. A Play About a Good Woman, by Oscar Wilde

Way before emojis, in Victorian times, there were folding fans. Ladies would indeed use them not just as accessories to cool themselves, but as dramatic tools to send secret messages to friends, enemies and suitors.

French fan maker and leather goods manufacturer Duvelleroy, founded in Paris in 1827, produced magnificent and ornately embellished designs with sticks and guards made from precious wood, horn, mother of pearl, ivory or tortoise shell.

One of his sons, Jules Duvelleroy, published a leaflet to explain the secret code of fans (it was actually an expedient to sell more fans... and it worked).

Duvelleroy explained, for example, that a lady who carried the fan in the right hand in front of her face meant "follow me"; drawing the fan through the hand sent instead a harsh message, "I hate you", while drawing the fan across the cheek meant the opposite.

The code proved successful and secured Duvelleroy a prestigious deal as he became a supplier for Queen Victoria, while the secret language of fans became one of the protagonists of Oscar Wilde's 1892 play "Lady Windermere's Fan".

As the years passed, fans (that in earlier centuries in Ancient Egypt, China, Japan and India, were also used for ceremonial purposes), changed function: it is not rare to spot in museums fans designed for advertising purposes or to mark special events, including coronations, and there were also travelling fans, usually covered in maps.

Novelty fans printed with questions and answers on either side and with lists of signs and gestures to hold conversation at parties were used for the 18th-century party game called "Fanology" or "Speaking fan". Around the same time, "dance fans" covered with dance instructions also became popular.

The personal use of fans declined after the First World War (1914-18), but fans continued to appear during catwalk shows or, printed with logos of a specific fashion house, they were produced as advertising mediums for fashion designers and labels. 

In more recent years, quite a few houses turned to the humble folding fan as a practical fashion show invitation, among the others Dior (View this photo), Ports 1961 (View this photo), Moschino (View this photo) and Issey Miyake.

In some cases, fashion also turned into iconic accessories for fashion designers: a pre-diet Karl Lagerfeld hid his double chin behind his fan, an accessory he abandoned once he was able to fit into his trademark razor-thin suits.

Beyond fashion and its more commercial purposes, the hand fan has also been used to send messages: an essential in some drag performances, fans added drama and hinted at a glamorous and bold attitude in the 1980s ballroom scene (think Angie Xtravaganza in "Paris is Burning") where they were used in a flirty way and in dance routines.

And there are other way to use fans as metaphors or to deliver a message: the late Italian designer Cinzia Ruggeri painted cute black ants on a red fan (an item that will be included in the exhibition "Cinzia says…" on from November at London's Goldsmiths CCA). In this case the designer may have referenced Dino Buzzati’s formiche mentali (mental ants) from his last book "The Miracles of Morel Valley" (View this photo).

In this brief tale, recounting a fictitious received grace by a saint nun, Buzzati wrote: "It would seem that actually in Longarone and in the Zoldo Valley, in the year 1871, there was a brief invasion of mental ants, apparently from the Balkan region. Tiny, almost imperceptible in their normal state, they grew dramatically once installed within the cerebral convolutions, which the insects reached through the ears (...) Mental ants, with their mere presence, loosen the ontological solidity of the everyday world, insinuating the doubt about the very existence of the infected person."

If this was the reference in this fan (and it may have been as Buzzati had written a presentation for an early exhibition of paintings by Ruggeri when she was just 18 years old), it was a subtle and ironic idea: a simple and banal fan could suddenly shake the solidity of the world.

If you'd like to discover more fans with metaphors and messages, head to GAM – Galleria d'Arte Moderna in Milan for "Moving in Space without Asking Permission" (until 18th December 2022), Andrea Bowers's first solo show in an Italian institution.

The event focuses on gender equality and women's emancipation, women's and workers' rights, immigration, and environmentalism through a variety of media.

The exhibition path winds through the five rooms on the ground floor of the GAM, with iconic works and new productions, including a documentary video filmed inside Villa Reale dedicated to "feminist combative self-awareness" and the artist's "Feminist Fans".

In this installation of brightly coloured sprayed fans, these humble accessories are not just your usual functional tools, but they are actually handy vehicles to spread ideas and slogans, such as "Trust Women", "It's okay to be angry", "Dead men don't grab pussies", "Hear me roar", "Resist to exist", "My outfit is not an invitation" and "Feminists are just women who don't want to be treated like shit".

Centuries have gone since Duvelleroy's secret language of the fan and, as the decades passed this accessory transformed, learning more codes, words and languages. Lady Windermere would be happy to hear that she wouldn't even have to use these fans to strike somebody across the face: the messages emblazoned on them would indeed be enough to throw a metaphorical punch in somebody's face. 

Digital & Physical Beauty in a Math-Based Choreography: ELEVENPLAY X Rhizomatiks X Kyle McDonald's "Discrete Figures"

In yesterday's post we looked at a fashion collection characterized by pleats, folds and pockets built to guarantee freedom of movement to the wearer. There are artists and choreographers, instead, celebrating movement by exploring the possibilities of mathematics and technology.

Inspired by Alan Turing, the Enigma codebreaker, Rhizomatiks - led by Daito Manabe and Motoi Ishibashi - created a groundbreaking dance performance in collaboration with the ELEVENPLAY dance company, choreographer and art director Mikiko and media artist and open source arts-engineering toolkits collaborator Kyle McDonald. 

Debuting in Japan four years ago, "Discrete Figures" was performed at the Osaka University of Arts earlier on this year on the occasion of Manabe's appointment as a visiting professor at the Osaka University of Arts. The piece is on tonight and tomorrow at the Tbilisi International Festival of Theater (Tbilisi/Georgia).

In "Discrete Figures" performing arts and mathematics are used to explore the relationship between the human body and computer-generated movement born from mathematical analysis. Numeric data and analytical results inform indeed the choreography.

The piece is based on the interplay between the real and the virtual world: dancers in white costumes comprising basic T-shirts, pants and a pleated half skirt form sketched geometries or interact with shapes and figures projected on screens, and with ghost-like dancers.

One of the most effective parts of the choreography is the section with the dancers behind frames with screens reproducing on them stylized versions of their movements that look like drawings. The virtual dancers's movements, created through pose estimation by markerless motion capture and graphic generation using photogrammetry, intersect the world beyond the screens that turn into dynamically moving canvases, creating two different planes similar to the real/comics environments in A-ha's video for their 1985 hit "Take On Me". 

As an additional layer of complexity, the performance piece also uses drones, AI, and machine learning to create new movemens and modes of expressive dance that go beyond the limits of conventional human subjectivity and emotional expression.

The research behind the piece was extremely time-consuming and started with a machine learning phase. Researchers used Openpose to study the poses of public domain stage footage and movie scenes, collected the pose data, and developed a neighborhood search system matching pose data from stage footage and movies with dancer pose data to project imagery of poses closest to theirs into a rectangular on-stage frame.

Besides, a booth is usually set up in the venue lobby to photograph visitors. Until just before the start of the performance, the characteristics and movements of the participants' clothing and movements are analysed on multiple remote servers to make the audience appear on the screen on stage as dancers.

The performance integrates different hardware pieces including five palm-sized micro drones and the frames with screens mentioned earlier on. The drones, more maneuverable and easy to use than ordinary ones, create balls of light floating on the stage. The frames incorporate seven infrared LEDs and a battery and the motion capture system recognizes the whole as a rigid body, responding to dancers' movements based on various rules and algorithms to generate new bodily expressions.

The result is a new set of movements that transcend the limits of conventional human subjectivity and emotional expression and prove that new technologies, such as motion tracking and data-driven computer graphics, can be used to create harmonious and elegant dance steps. Expect to see this technology integrated in a fashion show at some point, maybe by a futuristic designer à la Iris van Herpen.

Return of the "Cash & Carry" Trend: Miu Miu S/S 23 Vs Sacai S/S 23

The history of fashion is full of pockets: they abounded in menswear and in soldiers', mailmen and mechanics' uniforms, but Elsa Schiaparelli introduced them in womenswear in her "Cash and Carry" collection in the early '40s.

While in America pockets were still just decorative, in Europe large pockets were more functional as with the Second World War women had to carry gas masks, identification papers and ration cards.

The trend continued in the years that followed with Dior and Jacques Fath (the first picture in this post shows a silver silk satin jacket with four pockets, designed by Jacques Fath in 1949 and looking incredibly modern) incorporating large pockets into their elegant designs.

In more recent years, Schiap's "Cash and Carry" collection inspired some of the designs in Christian Lacroix one-off tribute to Elsa in 2013, in Schiaparelli's A/W 2017 collection (by Bertrand Guyon).

In a previous post we also looked at Marni's S/S 17 collection that featured detached and semi-detached pairs of pockets considered as modular elements that could be strapped on any sort of garment.

Miuccia Prada is a fan functional pocket as you may remember from Prada's A/W 2019 collection and so it was only natural that maxi pockets appeared in her Miu Miu S/S 23 collection (showcased during Paris Fashion Week with a presentation that featured a digital installation in collaboration with Chinese artist Shuang Li).

The latter featured basic garments layered in unusual ways and simple clothes like apron skirts tied at the hip (we can definitely redo this at home, even with a piece of leather we may have lying around, so get working…), bra tops matched with pleated and pencil skirts, silky parka dresses and skirts with drawstrings, lightweight utility parkas, stone-washed brown leather coats and denim suits.

Most garments were either covered with large bulging pockets or accessorized with utility belts worn as miniskirts, like the last design donned by a special guest model, FKA Twigs, at the end of the show.

Sacai's Chitose Abe also integrated large pockets in her S/S 23 collection. The latter was actually more complex than Miu Miu and focused on clever constructions, clearly showing the fact that Abe began her career as a pattern-maker.

Showcased in Paris, the collection opened with an ingenious design, a double-breasted hybrid tuxedo jacket that turned into a dress coat fusing with a pleated white shirt and matched with skinny pants (View this photo).

More desirable pieces followed: fitted pleated pants flaring at the ankle, shirts with billowing sleeves, a peacoat turned into a bustier, a trenchcoat renewed through deconstruction and reconstruction with exterior pockets attached to its belt and dramatic split sleeves.

The collection went from black and white to military nuances including light olive green and beige, but the real protagonists were the folds and pleats that added new dimensions to the garments.

Clever tailoring was the key to unlock the collection and Abe's patterns transformed even the most banal or boring piece like an army surplus MA-1 bomber jacket into something more extraordinary such as tank dress.

Even though most designs were structured, the pleats added movement and so did the pockets that were built into the clothes or added as if they were utility belts.

In both Miu Miu and Sacai's cases the belts seemed combinations of 18th century pockets with Schiap's "cash and carry" pockets.

One scary twist is that Schiap's were designed to carry everything you needed in air raids and so you wonder if these designers created these looks thinking about the war in Ukraine.

Miuccia didn't really explain anything about the collection, but Abe said this was a collection to joyously empower people through pleats and guarantee the wearer freedom of movement. 

So, phew, the huge pockets are not for the next nuclear apocalypse, but will allow us to leave behind our handbags and carry all our everyday objects that we consider vital extensions of our bodies such as smartphones, and move (or even dance, please?) freely.

Ah, yes, there's a final DIY note to add here: if you want to save money and you're a fan of the "cash and carry" look, search for vintage working pouch bags (like carpenter's pouches) and sport them with a sequinned skirt. You will not just be simply fashionable but bang on trend.

Distressed Luxury for the Fakely Disenfranchised: Balenciaga S/S 23

Months have gone since Balenciaga's A/W 22 runway that entered the history of fashion as the "snowstorm show" that featured models battling the elements in a snow-filled arena. Originally a show about climate change, it was then turned into a tribute to refugees and in particular to Ukrainian people battling the elements to flee their country as the Russian invasion had just started.

Seven months have gone since that show and the war continues in Ukraine, while Vladimir Putin's nuclear threats prompted US President Joe Biden to warn about "the prospect of Armageddon". In the meantime, the snow didn't turned into slosh on Balenciaga's S/S 23 runway (that took place last Sunday during Paris Fashion Week), but into real thick mud (275 cubic meters from a French peat bog, to be precise), an installation courtesy of Spanish artist Santiago Serra. To make the experience more real, Demna Gvasalia also had a custom-made scent designed by his collaborator Sissel Tolaas. The "mud show" invitation was instead a lost wallet, complete of ID, credit cards, gym cards and a grocery receipt.

Ye, formerly known as Kanye West, opened the show in a security outfit that comprised leather biker pants reinforced at the knees, an oversized jacket, baseball cap and a logo mouthguard (tragicomically hilarious - will we see this luxury mouthguard shielding the teeth of wealthy fashionistas in the event of a nuclear apocalypse?). Apart from the grotesque effect caused by the whole ensemble that seemed to engulf him, the most disturbing thing about Ye (well, this event took place a day before his rant and the "White Lives Matter" shirt mess, so this was the most disturbing thing about him before the annoying Yeezy show…) was that he sported make up that made him look as if he had been punched in the face.

Then it was the turn of models in baggy and shredded jeans worn low on the hips to reveal underwear with Balenciaga-logo waistbands. Hoodies, oversized nylon jackets and sweatshirts with matching running shorts were at times accessorized with semi-destroyed and dirty teddy bear-shaped bags.

As the models walked, mud splashed against their ankles, sneakers, sandals and flats, soaking the hem of evening dresses like a red pleated silk gown or a furry acid green dress that was the "glamorous" version of a green coat Gvasalia designed for the Kurt Cobain-inspired character in the Royal Opera House production of "Last Days" (with a libretto written by the artist Matt Copson and the experimental composer Oliver Leith), opening today at London's Linbury Theatre (View this photo; Balenciaga did 8 costumes for the members of the cast; it is only natural to wonder how long we will have to wait for a re-edition of Mark Ravenhill's "Shopping and Fucking" with costumes by Balenciaga taken from this collection...). 

Among the other accessories there were spiralling scarves that looked like those novelty draught excluders you may spot on Aliexpress (well, this may be a successful accessory with a double purpose, you may indeed also use it to insulate your room and save on the heating bills...); baby carriers with the fashion house logo complete with lifelike baby dolls inside (worn by dads in bomber jackets, ripped jeans, trench coats and ballet slippers); insect sunglasses that some of us may have spotted at a rave in the early '90s; a rectangular leather tote bag that was reminiscent of Pierre Cardin’s classic rectangular bag with a round arm hole (also copied by Tom Ford) with a gauntlet-like sleeve attached and Dutch wooden clogs in their glitter or brightly coloured rubber version, for that fetish-meets-folk touch.

Most models also wore Balenciaga's mouthguards, but unfortunately for them the offending item didn't show that well in photos, and they looked as if they had their mouths opened in a mysterious stupor.

The show closed with a model in a gown made of cut-up Balenciaga Lariat handbags: the technique was reminiscent of something from Margiela's Artisanal collection, while the final effect was a bit Edward Scissorhands-meets-Frankenstein's monster.

Gvasalia is almost unanimously considered as a genius in today's fashion scene, but this show posed some problems: like Balenciaga's distressed sneakers that seemed to imply that poverty is appealing, the models stomped on the runway like renegades or outcasts living in a dystopian post-nuclear world complete with make-up reproducing beat-up faces. This was a bit too much in our times and in a world where people get tortured, beaten and killed on an everyday basis.

Just like Balenciaga's tattered and faux-distressed shoes felt like selling poverty to people who can afford buying into it because they don't have to be afraid of becoming poor, you got the feeling that the apocalyptic look was not a genuine tribute to people suffering, but a way to sell a luxurious version of the disenfranchised look (that, comprising the usual massive trainers, jeans and hoodies is becoming tiringly repetitive…) to those wealthy enough to buy it.

According to Gvasalia, luxury doesn't have to be polished, but it can be distressed, and while that's understandable, this runway vision of distressed luxury can be interpreted in an offensive way. Balenciaga has indeed turned in the last few years into a luxury fashion house producing garments for people who pretend they are on the front lines of a battle, but never fought any battles in their lives, never went to bed hungry and never worked long hours for a pittance. In a nutshell, this is fashion not for all those lying in the gutter but looking at the stars, to paraphrase Oscar Wilde, but for the very few who are pretending to lie in the gutter (or in the mud in this case). 

But there were some good news at the show as well: Gvasalia announced in a letter left on each seat that he will not be explaining his collections from the next season. So, from now on, fashion commentators may have to decode his messages and interpret his visions without copying his press releases.