Unravelling Knitwear in Fashion

Sandra Backlund, Collection ‘Body, skin and hair’ (c) Photography: Johan Renck, Stylist Ellen Af Geijerstam

by Sarah Scaturro

I first met Karen Van Godtsenhoven when I was in Brussels last fall giving a lecture as the keynote speaker at the Camouflage Takes Center Stage conference at the Royal Military Museum.  She gave a wonderful presentation on camouflage in Belgian fashion - it was quite hilarious to watch all of the stiff military personnel (mostly men) chuckle uncomfortably as she showed a video of Bernard Willhelm's Spring/Summer 2004 presentation parodying the US military's "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy in which partially-clothed men walked out of a closet (literally) wearing camouflage and face paint and then proceeded to irreverently jump on a couch (see the video at the bottom of this post).

Van Godtsenhoven is a relatively new fashion curator with a promising future - "Unravel," the exhibition on view now at Momu, is the first time she has taken the helm as lead curator (along with the guest curator Emmanuelle Dirix, a lecturer at Central Saint Martins and Antwerp Fashion Academy.)  Following is an interview in which she talks about why she chose to dissect knitwear in fashion, what some of the challenges were in mounting an exhibition on this topic, and who she thinks some of the best knitwear designers are today. Her upcoming projects include exhibitions about Nudie Cohn and Walter Van Beirendock.

Fashion Projects: What inspired you to curate a show about knitwear in fashion?

Van Godtsenhoven: It's been a favorite subject and fascination of ours here for years. It was literally a research file ‘in the cupboard’ waiting to come out. With the current vogue for knitwear with young designers, but also the popularity of knitting within the wider public (think knitting cafés, ravelry.com, guerrilla knitting), we thought it was the right time for the subject to come out of the closet.

Unravel Installation,  MoMu, Antwerp, Photo: Frederik Vercruysse

You selected a mix of historical and contemporary pieces - besides the actual structure of the garments (non-woven, single element) did you find any surprising similarities or differences in how knitwear was used in the past as compared with today?

Yes, the changing status of knitwear in fashion is a subject of endless study possibilities. Whereas we see knitwear emerging very early on as a kind of handmade utility garment (related with warmth, hygiene and sturdiness - this element is still with us today), machine knitting is also a very old technique (16th century, long before the industrial revolution), which was very technologically advanced and resulted in very fine gauze- like materials. There are a few dresses and jackets in the show from the 17th, 18th and 19th century, of which many visitors cannot believe that they are knitted, the same goes for many of the 19th century socks: they are embellished and knitted so finely it looks like embroidery or lace. So, before the industrial revolution, machine knitting was considered high-class. Now we see an opposite appreciation: handmade goods are more costly than machine made ones.

There are many continuing ideas about knitwear (jersey is still used for sportswear, handmade goods are still associated with the domestic sphere and now also the DIY movement), but the short history of knitwear in fashion shows that there have been many (r)evolutions: from underwear and swimwear to Chanel’s jersey dresses and marine sweaters, to Schiaparelli and Patou’s abstract motifs, to the knitted A line dresses in the sixties, as a result of the sexual revolution, and the deconstructed 1990s knitwear that had its origins in the 1970s punk movement. Knitwear has always gone with the waves of society, and that makes it very interesting. I think the so called ‘revival’ (whilst knitwear has never really been away from the catwalk) of knitwear these days can be linked to heightened ecological awareness and a longing for handmade and body-hugging goods, and I'm curious in which form it will come back in the future.

Bathing suit by Elsa Schiaparelli, ca. 1928 (c) Condé Nast Archive/CORBIS

Were there any challenges to exhibiting knitwear pieces, especially due to conservation issues?

Yes, both the heavy and voluminous pieces, as well as the fine gauze-like knits weigh themselves down under their own weight: knitwear is a more ‘open’ material than a woven cloth and will hence open up even more when hanging. This is a risk for skirts and dresses stretching, or growing longer up to 40 cm in the 5 months they are on show.

We covered the busts and mannequins with a fine jersey, which ‘clings’ well to the knitted silhouettes and keeps the pieces in place - we also provided waist and hip supports for the dresses. The very frail pieces are displayed flat in cases. Knitwear is really always best kept flat...I've learned this from my own experience!

Tilda Swinton for Sandra Backlund. Published in Another Magazine, Autumn 2009 (c) Photography by Craig McDean, Styling by Panos Yiapanis

What are your favorite objects in the exhibition? Were there any objects you wanted but couldn't obtain?

I have to say that my favorites change often, but amongst the returning are: the four sweaters by Elsa Schiaparelli, the 3D silhouette by Sandra Backlund (made out of four different experimental dresses), and the knitted metal sweater by Ann Demeulemeester - it may sound like a punk outfit but it’s actually more like a very delicate jewel when you see it.

Oh, and maybe also the knitted boliersuit and miniskirt by Courrèges!

We were very sorry not to be able to get the sweater with holes (1982) by Comme des Garçons as it went missing, since it’s such a seminal piece for knitwear in high fashion - it completely changed our view on the formless in fashion, and regarding knitwear, to the ‘un-knitted’. In the title group ‘Unravel’ you see the evolution of how ‘waste’ (punk sweaters with holes, knitted in glaring colors) became fashion (Comme des Garçons, and many Belgian designers like Martin Margiela and Ann Demeulemeester, Raf Simons) and is now hugely popular (Mark fast, Rodarte).

You included new avant-guarde designers like Sandra Backlund and Mark Fast.  Who are some other emerging knitwear designers that we should keep an eye out for?

Good question, there are so many! I like Sandra Backlund and Mark Fast because of the very personal and highly different ways they treat knitwear. I also think Craig Lawrence, Kevin Kramp (menswear), Christian Wijnants (Belgian) and Iben Höj (from Denmark) all have very interesting, personal styles. Some come up with highly structured, sculptural pieces in raw wool, others treat the knitting process as something as delicate as lace making, others experiment with materials unheard of (fur, metal, rope), it is very exciting to watch these new talents.

Kevin Kramp A/W 2009-2010 (c) 2009 ACM Photography + Kevin Kramp

What do you think of the emergence of subversive knitting and yarn-bombing?

I really like it and think it is a very positive kind of urban ‘graffiti’ and shared engagement with the urban environment. We also had a small guerrilla action here around the museum as well with knitters from Brussels who ‘protest’ against ugly buildings or city furniture by covering them in knitted plastic wraps (waste instead of a more noble material like wool). We got a lot of response to the call and it was really great to see the more routined artists from Brussels working together with the Antwerp volunteers. The police came by and said they thought it was ugly, but that was ok for the knitters, as they were actually showing the ugliness of some city sights by covering them in knitwear. It was not a very subversive or artistic act but a very fun process; what struck me is that knitting is really a social activity these days, more so than sewing, pattern cutting or other fashionable hobbies, it is something that can be done whilst talking and seeing your friends.

******* Bernard Willhelm's Spring/Summer 2004 Presentation (courtesy of Karen Van Godtsenhoven)

Bernard Willhelm SS 2004 from Sarah Scaturro on Vimeo.

Madame Grés, Couture at Work

by Ingrid Mida Madame Grés, First Gallery.

Madame Grés once said: “I wanted to be a sculptor. For me, working with fabric or stone is the same thing.” Silk jersey was her medium and she dressed such women as the Duchess of Windsor, Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, Nan Kemper, Marlene Dietrich, and Grace Kelly like “statues in the flesh”.

“Madame Grés, Couture at Work”, is a retrospective exhibition that opened in March in Paris. Presented by the Musèe de la Mode de la Ville de Paris (which is otherwise closed for renovations until 2012), the location could not be more perfect. Setting Madame Grés’ fabric sculpture creations amidst the bronze and stone sculptures of the Musèe Bourdelle highlights the purity of line and form that defines the clothing created by this master of couture.

First Gallery

The first gallery is a monumental hall filled with massive sculptures. If not for the photographs from the exhibition poster at the far end of the hall, I would not have known I was in the right place. It took a few moments for my eyes to come to rest on the glass cabinet in the centre of the room. From a distance what looks like it might be a sculpture cut from fine white marble is actually a 1945 Madame Grés evening gown crafted out of silk jersey. Adjacent to it is a photograph by Willy Maywald and a toile of a half-completed Madame Grés dress with the shaping still defined by pins. This first gallery makes it clear that this is not a run-of-the mill retrospective. The juxtaposition of the sculptures and the classical forms of Madame Grés’ work adds contrast, beauty and vibrancy to both art forms. The presentation also references the famous photographs of Madame Grés work that included sculptures or Greek temples in the background.

Madame Grés, Suits.

Touring the exhibition was a journey of discovery, especially with the minimal signage (in French only) and the irregular shape of the museum. It was not always obvious to me where to go next, but it mattered little. There was a heightened sense of anticipation of what might be around the corner or in another room. This element of wonder was particularly notable in the Bourdelle studio and apartment, where the sculptor’s tools, furniture and artworks seem to delineate the shaping of the liquid lines of Madame Grés’ creations.

The exhibition includes about eighty designs by Madame Grés from the Musèe Galleria and private collections, fifty original photographs by artists such as Richard Avedon and Guy Bourdin, and one hundred drawings from the Madame Grés archive donated to the museum for this exhibition by Fondation Pierre Berge-Yves Saint Laurent.

What is on display can only be described as exquisite. In many cases, the garments are elevated on wooden plinths that lift the garments to above eye level just as if they were sculptures. This also allows for closer inspection of the mastery of line, shape, form and construction that Madame Grés brought to her work. Each period of Madame Grés career was represented, including her earliest works under the label of Alix. Many of the pieces seemed to be timeless and even modern in their sensibility and it often took a careful look at the labels to correctly discern the date since the designer often revisited certain favorite looks.

Madame Grés, Later Work.

My only criticism of the exhibition is the unilingual presentation. All the labeling is in French; the exhibition guide is only available in French; and the audio guide, which is available in English, is only for the Musèe Bourdelle sculpture works and includes no information on Madame Grés. Perhaps the museum did not anticipate many non-French speaking visitors to this out-of-the-way gallery, but it would have been wonderful if they had. This is a retrospective worth visiting, especially as the influence of Madame Grés can still be seen today in the work of such designers as Azzadine Alaia, Ralph Rucci and Isabel Toledo.

Madame Grés, Evening Gowns.

All photos by Ingrid Mida

Ingrid Mida is an artist and writer whose works explores the intersection between fashion and art. She is represented by Loop Gallery in Toronto.

Letting it All Hang Out: A Review of Charles Le Dray's Retrospective

“Charles”, 1995, fabric, thread, metal, plastic, paint. (48.3 x 35.6 x 11.4 cm).

By Lucie-Marie Layers

The work of the American sculptor and artist Charles LeDray was presented in a solo exhibition at the Whitney Museum these past winter months. The magnificent oeuvre of his most well-known craft – miniature clothing (and other media) made to a maximum effect – has been described by Whitney’s Curator of Drawings, Carter Foster, as “transporting pieces”, where LeDray offers an uncanny viewpoint of ordinary (mostly male) clothing and its implied wearers.

The context of much of his work pivoted around the idea of male identity, and of that particular branch of masculinity referred to as ‘machismo’. This was construed rather deliberately in LeDray’s piece from 1993 “World’s Greatest Dad”. This features a small-scale bomber jacket complete with a constellation of patches referring to quintessential macho clichés. Machismo is often translated into instances of "superior," exaggerated features such as physical power, personal virility and pride.You only need to conjure the character Stanley Kowalski in Tennessee William’s Pulitzer-prized play "A Streetcar Named Desire" to comprehend the concept of this certain male characteristic. The writings on the baseball cap of Le Dray’s piece designates the implied wearer as #1, the world’s greatest Dad (lover, alpha male, hero).

What is so interesting about the work of Charles LeDray is the way he speaks of a male stereotype in deliberate contrast to its ideal. In a rather poetic and gentle way, his miniature portraits (for his pieces are very much portraits of male identity) challenge these configurations by employing skills often associated with women - the delicacy of threading and sewing, and not least the miniature—so often associated with Victorian femininity.

Charles LeDray invites an exploration of the symbolic capital of clothing. The juxtaposition of macho ideals alongside the traditionally recognized female handicraft enables an unconventional understanding of society’s convention. This is seen again in “Army, Navy, Airforce, Marines” where LeDray’s ambitious portraits (un)intentionally diminishes man’s masquerade, presenting the ideal of masculinity as both complex and fragile.

" Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines," 1993, fabric, wire, vinyl, silkscreen, zipper.

With the exquisitely crafted “Charles” (1995) LeDray has constructed a miniature blue-collar uniform with clue as to the identity of the wearer: a name patch stitched to the chest. From this (self-)portrait hang several tinier items of clothing; colourful dresses, boxer shorts, pullovers, slacks, a brassiere, and bath robe. The complexity of this portrait can explain how costume is forever committed to concepts of identity, sexuality, community, and experience, all forming each individual, literally clinging on for their bare life.

Perhaps that explains why the real-life Charles LeDray is rather elusive. Born in Seattle in 1960, now living and working in New York City, he would rather let his work speak for itself than determine it. Preferring not to discuss his work, this exhibition surely was a way to let himself and his miniature male counterparts hang out more than ever.

The Charles LeDray exhibition was held at the Institute of Contemporary Art, Boston, before it traveling to the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York City.

"Overcoat'" 2004, fabric, wood, metal, paint, plastic, thread.

Lucie-Marie Cecilie Jespersdatter Layer is an artist and a graduate of the masters in Visual Culture: Costume Studies at NYU. She is currently based in New York City, her previous work experiences include Cheap Date (UK) and The Royal Danish Ballet.

Fashion and Design at the Victoria & Albert

Pavonia, by Frederic, Lord Leighton, 1858-59, © Private Collection c/o Christie's

by Laura McLaws Helms

Currently on view at the Victoria & Albert museum in London are two exhibitions that deal with highly refined design, from a century apart. “The Cult of Beauty” (on view until July 17th) looks at the Aesthetic movement that sprouted from the members of Pre-Raphaeliteism in England in the 1860s. Concerned with “art for art’s sake,” the movement reached its apogee in the 1880s and 90s when it moved from strictly the province of artists to the passion of aristocrats and then into the mainstream. While it arose from the fine arts, Aestheticism was concerned with beautiful design in all aspects of life resulting in a broad range of Aesthetic design that is covered in this large exhibition. Sequenced chronologically, the curator, Stephen Calloway, deftly intermixes paintings, sculpture, furniture and more in rooms painted in such Aesthetic tones as peacock and ‘artistic’ green.

A small section devoted to Aesthetic dress showcases their desire to reject “the corsetry, uniformity and commercialism of high fashion” while encouraging “individuality” and drapery. Notably different than the upholstered, bustled dresses prevalent at the time, on view is a “late Medieval” sage green velvet dress from Liberty’s Artistic and Historic Costumes Studio. A return to the ideals of the Middle Ages, when craftsmanship was seen to be celebrated, was one of the main tenants of Aesthetic design and its influence is present in costume in the loose, draped gowns and flattened nature motifs. Men’s aesthetic dress is irrevocably associated with Oscar Wilde’s velvet knickerbocker suit, of which a variation is on display. Other garments and accessories, including a smoking cap, reflect the drawing of inspiration from the East. Though the selection of dress in the exhibition is limited, for the lover of fashion the whole show is a glorious paean to all that is beautiful, making for an irresistibly enjoyable experience.

"Peacock Feathers" furnishing fabric, by Arthur Silver for Liberty & Co., 1887, © V&A Images

A total contrast, nearby is the main exhibition space for “Yohji Yamamato” (on view until July 10th), a bright hall with scaffolding erected down one side. The central area holds over sixty of his designs, mainly from the 1990s and 2000s, while on the wall behind the scaffold is a multi-media timeline charting his forty years in design. The mannequins are arranged in small groups, standing at eye level with no barriers between the viewers and them. This allows for almost unprecedented access to garments in a fashion exhibition — inviting the museumgoer to walk around the mannequin, come up close to analyze fabric and manufacture, do everything but touch. Ligaya Salazar, the curator, visited the Yamamoto archives, choosing a selection of women’s and men’s pieces that reflect his individual vision, combining an Asian belief in the primacy of the cloth — the exhibition begins with Yamamoto’s quote of how “fabric is everything” — with a deep interest in the work of Western couturiers.

Yohji Yamamoto exhibition at the V&A, 2011

Dotted around the museum are site-specific installations of some of his pieces, determined to reflect aspects of “Yohji Yamamoto’s design world.” Situated in amongst works of art and historical rooms, his designs take on new meaning in their new environments — red wool dresses and coats shown with fifteenth century tapestries blend with the era yet also emerge as completely modern and alien to the tapestries. While the use of installations spread out amongst the museum creates a certain engagement with the viewer, a similar interaction between varied museum space and Yamamoto’s garments was already done in the three-part retrospective of his work, “Triptych,” held in 2005 and 2006 at Galleria d’Arte Moderno of Palazzo Pitti in Florence, the Musee de la Mode et du Textile in Paris and the MoMu in Antwerp. The exhibition also fails to provide any information on Yamamoto’s work processes — though the expertly and innovatively cut pieces might be thought to speak for themselves, a greater depth of information would be appreciated. It is clear from the blog Ligaya Salazar maintained during the process of curating this exhibition that she learned a great deal of knowledge about Yamamoto and his work, which would have made a welcome addition to the two didactics included and would have helped to impart a more complete understanding of the Japanese enigma.

Yohji Yamamoto, Satellite display at the Tapestry Gallery, V&A, 2011

Savage Beauty: Alexander McQueen at the Metropolitan Museum of Art

Alexander McQueen Savage Beauty, Courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art

by Ingrid Mida

The world is experiencing a McQueen moment” said Thomas P. Campbell, director of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in his opening remarks to the press at today’s preview of the exhibition Savage Beauty: Alexander McQueen.

A more fitting choice of words could not be spoken. Until now, the extraordinary and rare genius of Lee Alexander McQueen’s artistic vision was not widely appreciated. In this retrospective presentation of about one hundred garments and seventy accessories from the late designer’s relatively short career from 1992-2010, The Metropolitan Museum has honored and documented the enormous legacy of McQueen to the world of fashion and art.

Alexander McQueen once said “For me, what I do is an artistic expression of that which is channeled through me. Fashion is just the medium.”

Not defined by stylistic convention, McQueen explored themes of love, nature, sex, and politics in terms of clothing and accessories for women. McQueen was also fascinated by the polarities of light/dark, wonder/terror, ugly/beautiful, life and death. Although his medium was fashion, McQueen’s thematic precepts were the opus of contemporary art and the exhibition celebrates that aspect of his work.

McQueen Black Duck Feathers Fall 2009, Courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art

The expansiveness of McQueen’s vision is apparent in not only the thematic underpinnings to his work but also in his innovative use of materials. He manipulated feathers, horns, wood, glass, flowers, horsehair and shells into coverings for the female form. Mollusk shells became a corset, feathers became a skirt, alligator heads peeked out of jacket epaulettes, carved wooden boots became prosthetic legs, a jawbone became jewelry. There can be no doubt that he was an artist who presented his work in runway spectacles instead of a gallery. Looking to provoke reactions from his audience, he scripted the models for the runway shows to act with the charged emotions of a performance piece.

Presented thematically instead of chronologically, the exhibition defines McQueen’s work as a Romantic individualist, a “hero-artist who staunchly followed the dictates of his inspiration,” in the words of exhibition curator Andrew Bolton. Divided into galleries defined by themes of romantic historicism, naturalism, primitivism, and nationalism, the exhibition is evocative of a gothic fairy tale. One moves from light into darkness and the stuff of dreams.

Creating an exhibition that translated the spectacle of a McQueen show into the confines of a museum setting seems like a virtually impossible proposition. But curator Andrew Bolton and the exhibition designers captured the spirit of McQueen in a multi-dimensional sensory immersion into his oeuvre.  Sound, air and light are designed to synthesize the effect of being at a McQueen runway show. Wind effects create movement of the garments. Music and music and light are manipulated to achieve a dream like quality to the galleries. Video projections within, behind, and around the objects, and in one case on the ceiling, animate the displays and allow the visitor to check their reality with the looped clips from runway shows.

Much care has been given to the mannequins. Masks by Guido created out of leather, lace, linen and other materials conceal some of the mannequins faces and evoke a haunting presence. Some mannequins are headless and others look as if they are moving. Some sit on turntables or are backed by mirrors.

McQueen Gallery View Highland Rape, Courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art

No detail has been overlooked in this hauntingly beautiful presentation. Several of the rooms bring to mind a Baroque palace with glass-fronted cabinets befitting such a place. One gallery is suggestive of the Victorian cabinet of curiosities and showcases accessories that were created in collaboration with others such as Philip Treacy and Shaun Leane.  And yet other galleries are modern and as disparate as the designer’s collections were from season to season. The exhibition is a showcase of unexpected delights, featuring the best examples of McQueen’s work sourced from the McQueen and Givenchy archive, as well as private collectors such as Daphne Guinness and Hamish Bowles.

The Metropolitan Museum of Art has set a new standard for exhibitions of costume. This exhibition is a fitting tribute to Lee Alexander McQueen’s extraordinary talent and is one of those shows that people will undoubtedly reference for years to come.

By Ingrid Mida

Ingrid Mida is a freelance writer, researcher and artist whose work explores the intersection between fashion and art. Based in Toronto, she is represented by Loop Gallery and also writes for a variety of journals. She will be the keynote speaker at the American Costume Society mid-west conference where she will talk about her artistic practice and when fashion becomes art.

Photos provided courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art