Monday 5 May 2014

Brief: Raf Simons @Dior

I.

There are many metaphors in haute couture; the most illuminating almost always take us back to the hands of the couturier. For architect or magician, craftsperson or clairvoyant, these are the agents that enact engrossed performances deep in the atelier, fashioning the artifacts that are to be borne, in handsome state, by bodies, and the public imagination. In the spring of 1947 there was exceptional endeavour in a novel workshop on Avenue Montaigne, where hands exerted accordingly; those of Dior, in particular, were pink with anxiety. Knocking away at a Stockman mannequin, in a knobbly but exalted task of reconfiguration, he worked with both an exhaustive finality and a virgin sense of departure. It was the material articulation of an ensemble he had developed for over eight years. I wanted my dresses to be "constructed", moulded on the curves of the female body whose contours they would stylize. I accentuated the waist, the volume of the hips; I emphasized the bust. The satin doll of nondescript proportions had become an indelible imprint -recognizable, effective, eloquent. The New Look of mid-century couture was finally ripe in life form. 

This detail about the mannequin -fact of history, fine subtlety in the man's legend- is always tucked just beneath my sleeve whenever I read the developments at the House of Dior. Into this charming memory of Dior, it seems, I have resolved the totality of interest that its singular achievements have created for me. It is perhaps worth signalling, for instance, that a silhouette which fashion historian Farid Chenoune -making his remarks in the context of the post-war situation- described as a restoration of a "damaged ideal of French femininity" was cast on a stuffed mannequin. Or, interpreting this carver's posture as the couturier's principal stance -we can conceive of the Bar as an architectural solution, if solution it was, to the questions of dress après-guerre. Following from here, it also makes Raf Simons' approach to the archive logically satisfying. His bid at reinvention -a peplum form derived from the main coordinates of the Bar jacket, paired with long cigarette pants- was an ambitious and rigorous inquiry into ideas of construction. The basic premise of this transformation was, in Tim Blank's succinct expression, "the formal past, the streamlined future, meeting in the middle". And this splicing of temporal spheres is hardly fortuitous; the visual assemblage of Dior's iconic Bar jacket and Yves Saint Laurent's le smoking voices a strong conceptual relation of its own, giving weight to the sense that Simons had put forward the clock during Saint Laurent's term at Dior, merging the bolder suggestions of his later designs with the legacy he first helped extend. 



Watercolor illustration by Mats Gustafson, commissioned by Dior. 
Image credits go to the artist. 



Looks from Dior Fall 2012 Couture, Simons' debut collection for the house.
Image credits go to style.com

If the rhetoric of the blueprint compels, it's up to its elaboration to convince. Simons executes this with the equipoise of a vigor that is at once scrupulous and expansive. His sophomore showing for the Spring 2013 RTW season opened with a tone that reinforced -a trio of tailored suits that, reiterating the proposals of the Couture collection, had the classic hourglass of the Bar tuned to a stylus. But where concepts were being restated, an evolving intention was also perceived. Simons' vision was revised in movement: ribboned chokers that cut neatly across the neck finished each tuxedo ensemble, the drift produced by its ample knot subtly spotlighted by the austerity of the linear scheme. Lending impetus to the incipient cadence set up by this dynamic embellishment, Simons shifts the frame of reference yet again -this time the trousers that had substituted for the full skirt of the original A-line are themselves displaced entirely, leaving just a mini jacket-dress worn with variations of the tiny theme or nothing at all. A reminder of the Bar's sculpted hip now hovers between the erogenous zones of a sharp V neckline and newly exposed legs, and the liberal step granted by the practical form is too registered in the pleated panels and godets slotted into the flaring hems of the jackets. Against the balletic rippling of the set's diaphanous curtaining, the collective effect of this gathering of momentum aspires to a visual euphony governed and intoned in metronomic meter. 




Looks from Dior Spring 2013 RTW.
Image credits go to style.com

For Spring 2013 RTW, movement was an ancillary pursuit, a serif feature that rounded off the formal qualities of Simons' minimalistic diagrams. 4 seasons onward, and it is his prime preoccupation, amplified and made durable in a reassessment of the relationship between a silhouette and the body that moves beneath it. To see clearly the statement Simons makes, refer back to the Bar/le smoking amalgam that is his initial proposition: the addition of bell-sleeves and a baggier version of tailored trousers all point to a new character in the clothes. Then there was the fabric of the jackets -punctured through with disc-shaped perforations that have had their lower lips folded outwards, the latticework accomplished quite dramatically aerates (Susie Bubble's instructive word) the Bar torso. These patterned canvases constituted the more conservative of this season's showing. Elsewhere, the Bar had graduated to abstraction; sections of fabric with the same littered, absent motifs are positioned around the familiar junctures, posed in vague imitation of their parental bearings. But observing these pieces in their static context is only preliminary. In motion, these suggestive non-scapes yield fully the cues that prime the eye -as the dresses are walked in, their outlines dilate, fill out, approach the native template. Each is a sensitive rendering of the kinetic realm of an individual, asymmetric in its present-tense making. 




Looks from Dior Spring 2014 Couture.
Image credits go to style.com

In his latest for the House, Simons returns to the thesis of the single detail. The program for Fall 2014 RTW ran radial to the roulette accessory, prominent rivulets of white and blue that were wilfully and radically strung through the flanks of jackets. Needless to say, this graphic asset is meaningfully stationed -its binary associations of corsetry and shoe string lacing provides for a highly productive juxtaposition in itself. Simons nevertheless makes sure that the implications of this alliance play out in practice. Holding together the panel seams in the new jointed form of the Bar emblem, the lacing assists in a deregulation of silhouette, a relaxed profile that is carried through the dominant ensembles of jacket coats and sportswear-inspired slipdresses. The mood was progressive, urban, and as Tim Blanks aptly put it, thoroughly sensational. 




Looks from Dior Fall 2014 RTW.
Image credits go to style.com


II.

Modernity supplies new shapes, and a renewed autonomy of the second dimension. Hence we can speak of color as compensatory, as offsetting the references to the archive - cf. iridescent, euphoric organza; acidic and crystalline pastels, deep saturation of silks. 




Image credits go to style.com

Other: Simons' idioms are dwelling places; the gaze finds rest as in a painting. Fall 2013 RTW presented handpainted dress screens of early Warhol, sketchy illustrations realized by fine embroidery and delicate beading. In Spring 2014 RTW, helices of slogan and print, and then the final setting, with the second plane and the third form in revelatory empathy -the Bar jacket with a whorl of imbibed pleats.


Looks from Dior Fall 2013 RTW.
Image credits go to style.com



Looks from Dior Spring 2014 RTW.
Image credits go to style.com

Acknowledgements: Thank you to the Dior website for supplying the historical narrative that provided the opening of this piece. My commentary is also indebted to the articles by Tim Blanks at style.com and Susie Bubble at Dazed Digital -I could not have arrived at the ideas collected here have their words not taught me to see. I am also grateful to The Cutting Class, which gave me invaluable insight into the technical aspects of the collections. 

Friday 14 March 2014

International Women's Day '14: Anger and Feminism

A week late, but here are my thoughts.
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I was talking to a male friend of mine yesterday when the conversation turned to the feminist event I had attended a day earlier. Turns out he had indeed been aware of the event's existence, but had balked at the idea of coming forward to support our cause. When pressed he explained that his ambivalence was mainly due to the image/tone of the affair, which he perceived as predominantly one of anger. He wasn't sure how he could be a 'positive contribution' if he did choose to be present, he wasn't sure if he would know how to respond. So he decided to stay away.

A word before I move on: this friend of mine is in no way a party of the complacent, insular sort that wreathes his ignorance in self-righteous sanctity. Quite the contrary -he is one that is always receptive and ready to reevaluate his own assumptions. So while I'm glad it wasn't hostility but rather ambivalence that informed his decision, this led me to reflect upon the place of anger in feminist discourse (the event-in-question was appropriately titled for the occasion -All Fired Up! meant to encourage women to speak out on the things that make us angry) -a subject which over the years has been subsumed under the perhaps more familiar and convenient signpost, the "bad rep of feminism". 

It's unfortunate how it is still necessary, when talking about the efforts of feminism, to address and deflect the notion (and it is a frame of mind that prevails in no small degree) of feminism as an 'imaginary war'. It is an accusation that is unduly wielded against those who identify with the movement, whether in deliberate or subconscious attempt. The idea that our concerns are somehow misplaced, unnecessary, blown up, and all together unwarranted. That we've got to, first and foremost, convince the world of the reality of our situation. It's a wall of scepticism that every marginalised group in history have come up against. A group of spoken word performers at the event summed it up pretty well: wars are not meant to be started by its prisoners. Most people wouldn't hear us out because the status quo works in their favour, whether they recognise it or not -their experience is largely without amiss. Tripping over this blind spot is hardly ever punishing. The rest of us simply cannot afford the same comfort. We are fighting for self-preservation, period; to preface this fight with apology only devalues it. Anger is our rightful province; it is both the spirit and matter of our toil. 

Further: anger is not only a justified emotion, but also a necessary rhetoric. At the heart of the feminist ideology is a project of articulation; anger is no mere accessory to this objective, but its very vehicle. Articulation is born with anger manifest. It is the tipping point of silence; this awakening is our rebirth. Anger is the affirmation of our dignity as we stand as witnesses to our side of truth, on the very side of history where we have hitherto retired our words for fear of shame or self-incrimination. Anger is our calculated revolt. Where society protests uneasiness, ripostes violation, stalls -we rise to rouse, provoke to stir.

How do we, then, negotiate the politics of communication without compromising the integrity of articulation? That is, how do we create open air for dialogue, where nuance is employed not to sanitize, but to facilitate exchange and uphold respect? For the former is as crucial a responsibility of the movement as the latter is fundamental to it; and much too often, the two are played out in a zero-sum game (picture the disinterested public, defensive, in disbelief; picture the mime.) It is with acknowledged naivete that I propose for the voice of hope to occupy this middle ground. Behind the interrogation of anger is a sense of what should and could be. Hope celebrates progress that has been made and that is being made, and honors the labor that has gone into this making. It animates the vision of an egalitarian future with a modest view of the challenges and obligations that lie yet ahead. Hope affirms commitment. All Fired Up! meant not just for the gathered to share what made us angry, but also what gave us hope. The graffiti wall, with its double faces representing anger and hope, stood in full-blooded glory, as did all of us, as we locked arms for the candlelight vigil at sunset. My friend would have been a welcome addition, if not a positive contribution, to this assembly of the passionately angry and the ardently hopeful.

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Here's to a great year ahead for feminism.

Saturday 22 February 2014

Seahorse, Part I

Hey y'all. This is part I of Seahorse, a multi-panelled 'epic' poem that's basically my imaginative meditation on the natural history of the seahorse. A more proper preface will come later, when the later chapters get underway. I'd hopefully be back in the coming week with more new things to share. 

I
Before celestial grids mapped 
onto the dark ribs of the universe
-blue the planet was yet, instead
a mirrored canopy, endlessly exciting
silver of its mirage uncertain

A star clove in the near, cosmic geyser
splaying zest against jetted stream. 
Of Earth's clay bosom a flame consummate,
charring deep-sink under glazed crests
that charged towards light as spirit.

Air leadened to stone. Across alabaster
bed-cheek charted currents afoot
till bone-pith failed and
the dead rock smoothed over, combing 
countenance of shell-white dunes.

Mid-tide the sky broke, sheer underbelly
burst through by whitewater. Curdling
eddies the wash flushed milky over gullied
flanks, creamed chaste summits in
sap profuse and lapped silk-strand.

Deluge ebbed to dew, and by creep 
doused the moorlands a peat-dank.
Beneath blushed moss of laminate silt
Arched equine nape, ridged coronet
twined to upturned snout.

When the flood rose and its shoals pushed head
A tentative creature came to life