Wednesday, 12 November 2014

Beige

"Can someone really be that beige?

A mockumentary by Grace Higgins Brown and Peter Eason Daniels that deals with identity.
By each playing the same part-fictional, beige character, nuances and similarities between them are revealed, some of them things that you shouldn't necessarily be proud of. It's neither of them, but it's also both of them."


Wednesday, 22 October 2014

(Late) SS15 gawking, with a view of colour and sculptural tailoring


 MOSCHINO

(JEREMY SCOTT)


I can't deny that my initial attraction to this collection was its overt kitschiness and shades of pink; I love a good tongue-in-cheek concept delivered in a stylish way (something I think ended up seeming disappointingly gimmicky with Scott's previous use of McDonald's branding). Although what's really impressive here is the sheer scale of looks - Scott seriously committed to depicting Barbie in virtually every situation she'd find herself, and clearly in every single one of these she'd look eternally glamorous. So maybe the appeal here is giving a certain attainability to living the "glam-life"; providing flawless solutions to, say, when you next go to aerobics, find yourself at a roller disco, or just need to take a bath. 


It's also notable that it wasn't ALL pink, but revolved around a colour palette that sometimes moved away from the more obvious Barbie-inspired looks (such as in the image below) whilst maintaining the overall theme effectively. With regards to sculptural elements, there's a few interesting pieces that incorporate swimwear into garments in quite a wearable way (as above), which felt an interesting way to interpret usual Spring/Summer pieces. 










YOHJI YAMAMOTO


The engaging thing for me was the placement of the clothes on the body. Doing this in a largely 'unusual' way made everything generally more sculptural and added overall depth to the collection. I think it sometimes takes shows like this to uproot your dressing patterns and think more laterally about clothes; it's definitely possible to experiment and create wearable outfits that incorporate sculptural elements just by altering scale or placement. Also, that yellow really got me excited. 







What I've learnt: 1) Looking sculpted and a bit dishevelled equals understated sex appeal.
                           2) Wearing things 'wrong' is actually right. 










COMME DES GARÇONS

(RAI KAWAKUBO)



At first glance this collection seems to unite elements of violence and sex beautifully, the models appearing like strong, almost other-worldly creatures. I'm not sure why exactly, but it feels like quite a feminist statement to me, maybe because of all that red, maybe because I've read Angela Carter's The Bloody Chamber about a hundred times (and there's a red riding hood thing going on here). 






The layers of each garment build impressive volume and shapes, making these almost like wearable sculptures. I was especially drawn to the sleeves; some were too long, giving an almost childish appearance to the models, but also an eerie sense of extension to the arms, and the very sculptural examples were intriguing, as they unusually integrated the arms into the main body of the clothing. 











Sculptural link:

LUCY ORTA

Refuge Wear Intervention London East End 1998


Besides being innovative and attractive creations, the political messages behind these are really stimulating. These pieces explore the limits (or lack thereof) of what a garment can be, providing instant shelter and freedom of movement to those in need of it. Made in the time of the 1st Gulf War and its economic consequences, focus was particularly given to Kurdish refugees, and the growing levels of homelessness in Paris. These are almost more socially responsible sculptures than garments. 





"Throughout the 1990's Lucy + Jorge Orta staged a series of interventions to challenge acts of social disappearance and to render the invisible populations, visible once more. Peripheral urban spaces such as squats, railway stations, housing projects, bridges and subways were chosen as arenas for simultaneous happenings. These interventions – warnings, alarm bells, distress whistles – signal out social issues that the media were ignoring at that time." - http://www.studio-orta.com/en/artwork/86/Refuge-Wear-Intervention-London-East-End-1998



  



AYA TSUKIOKA


...and then obviously there's this






Fighting street crime one outfit at a time - genius.










Moschino collection photographs by 
Yohji Yamamoto collection photographs 
Commes des Garçons collection photographs by 
Lucy Orta photographs by John Akehurst, and interventions were commissioned by Dazed and Confused 
Aya Tsukioka photographs by Torin Boyd/Polaris, for The New York Times

Wednesday, 15 October 2014

Sagmeister & Walsh, and Olivier Kugler - 'Visual Communication'

Sagmeister & Walsh

http://www.sagmeisterwalsh.com/
(New York-based design firm primarily made up of designer Stefan Sagmeister, and designer and art director Jessica Walsh)




Advertising campaign for luxury Middle Eastern department store Aizone, featured in editorially, and on billboards all over Lebanon
(http://www.sagmeisterwalsh.com/work/project/aizone/)

The Happy Show​:  Filling the Institute of Contemporary Art's (ICA) entire second-floor galleries and ramp, and activating the in-between spaces of the museum, The Happy Show offers visitors the experience of walking into Stefan Sagmeister's mind as he attempts to increase his happiness via mediation, cognitive therapy, and mood-altering pharmaceuticals. (Description taken from http://www.sagmeisterwalsh.com/work/project/the-happy-show/)


Seigmeister & Walsh have a professional and slick aesthetic that nicely compliments their often playful content, resulting in work that looks very professional, but doesn't take itself too seriously - a nice balance. Moreover, pieces such as those in their Happy Show almost venture into fine art territory due to the incorporated conceptual elements, which is again effective in balancing their precise and polished aesthetic. Some pieces do lack this balance a little bit for me, and can seem a bit overly slick, but overall they achieve what they intend very well: 
"Beauty = price"/"Beauty is part of the function"/"We will do anything for design".






                         Olivier Kugler
(London-based illustrator)




In comparison to Sagmeister & Walsh, this work is a lot less slick, and I suppose is in a definite 'illustrative' style. The above cans are simple in a way that gives them lots of personality. Like much of Kugler's pieces, it's not overworked - simplicity is present in a less decisively minimal, designed way. 




However, work such as this map on the right really doesn't appeal to me. Maybe its almost childish appearance means it's not meant to appeal to me (target audience-wise), but I still find it somewhat grating with regards to his colour and typography choices. It lacks in the personality department, as it seems more 'designed', but in a manner that means it loses the quirkiness and sense of spontaneity that is so good about many of his other illustrations.  






Investigating and focusing on artists working within the area of 'Visual Communication' has made me realise how much I'm (as are many areas within art in general) influenced by this kind of work, as it all has the act of conveying character in common, and this is something relevant to most art practices. I can't identify a particular discipline within visual communication that appeals to me most; yes I love beautiful glossy magazines, but I also love little wonky illustrations. Maybe more to the point, these disciplines are often inseparable, which means work can be cooperatively created to the best of each ability. 

Saturday, 11 October 2014

Hellen Jo




This is the kind of illustrative work that really appeals to me; it's distinctive, but draws on well-loved influences (Daniel Clowes, the Hernandez brothers), clever, beautifully done, and often contains violence and graphic imagery. I especially like all of this when it's encapsulated by lots of strong, edgy girls, and better still when the artist's a woman, as such female depictions feel more empowered, and it's super important that more female artists continue to get progressively more recognition.







Perhaps best of all, she doesn't seem to take her work/self too seriously, I don't mean that she's at all un-committed, just that it all feels very playful and un-pretentious, which ultimately makes for work that feels happily un-contrived.








Her website, and a small but telling interview:


RuPope



Thursday, 9 October 2014

Women in Water: A Comparison of John Everett Millais’ 'Ophelia', and Francesca Woodman’s 'Untitled Boulder, Colorado'.

The following text furthers my concern/interest with certain depictions of women within art (again using a Pre-Raphaelite example) that I touched upon on the last post:



John Everett Millais - Ophelia (1852)
















                                    Francesca Woodman - Untitled Boulder, Colorado (1976)                                       





Both pieces feature rivers, both have women in them, yet the presentation of such differs. In a clear, observational way, one is a Pre-Raphaelite painting, and the other a modern, 20th Century photograph. In a more conceptual – and perhaps tenuous – way, these works have different connotations due to the myths or stories that possibly influenced them, and that of the artists themselves. Whilst both of these comparative approaches have certain esteem, it’s the more conceptual angle that seems to provide the most scope for interest, specifically in terms of the traditional – often derogatory – presentation of women in art and how this has altered.

Looking  at the direct, observational differences between the works, Ophelia is depicted as a Pre-Raphaelite beauty, and surrounded by flora of a similar aesthetic. On the other hand, Woodman appears in greyscale; an almost ghostly figure, perhaps pertinent for her graveyard surroundings. Thus, you could interpret Woodman as providing commentary of the death of female respectability, or the lack of independent presence and voice that women in art are traditionally given. Whereas Millais’ is seemingly celebrating the beauty and tragedy of such women, something not alien to human psyche regarding art and literature at the time[1]. There’s also the question of focus: Ophelia is unequivocally the focus of Millais’ piece, where Woodman (although definitely a focus) is less so. Again, this could be commentary by Woodman of the traditional lack of female agency in art, or it could in fact be an attempt to lessen of the objectification of women, when taking the focus of Ophelia into account; it seems we are to marvel as her beauty despite the obvious distress she was and is in.[2] Perhaps the real difference here is the artists themselves; one may feel more protective of Ophelia as she was painted by a male artist, thus bringing forth notions such as the male gaze[3], whereas Woodman’s piece feels like an active point of utilising her own body, and thus her power.

A major similarity between the two works is that the women within them both lie in bodies of water (seemingly rivers), which when paired with the stories or myths they may take influence from – in the case of Ophelia, Shakespeare’s Hamlet is certainly its influence, and there’s evidence that Woodman was greatly inspired by the myth of Apollo and Daphne[4], which seems likely for this image, as she almost entwines with the roots of the tree – may provide further conceptual poignancy regarding women, particularly in terms of women being ‘ravaged’ by nature. Although nature is a typically considered a feminine entity, it’s men that wrote these tales, and men that caused these women’s demises; in both tales women are punished for either being driven ‘mad’, or pursued by men. Yet when a woman handles such a tale, it morphs, perhaps as an act of reclaiming feminine nature and empowerment. Instead of being helplessly enveloped by the river, Woodman seems to fight against it, or at least to have autonomously made the decision to be in its water. Or possibly Woodman made a mostly aesthetical decision; she was able to make her limbs flow and merge with the water and tree, highlighting similarities between the human form and that of nature, something she would then seemingly share with Millais’ depiction of Ophelia. It’s maybe due to the modern context we place her photograph in (even down to its very medium) that elicits such feminist-inclined connotations, or at least those with more of a ‘modern’ view of women in comparison to Millais’ painting. However, it feels as though the really significant difference between the works is their creators; it’s a much more comfortable experience knowing that the instigator of a naked woman was the women herself. 



[1] Shakespeare’s Hamlet from which Ophelia derives is a tragedy, a form that went on to influence Gothic fiction, which played with and developed human tendencies of sadism and deriving pleasure from tragedy and death. Ophelia drowns in the river after apparently being driven mad by her father’s death.

[2] A notion only furthered by Millais’ painting process during which his model became very ill when the bath she was posing in went cold and he didn’t notice.

[3] Laura Mulvey’s Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema published in 1975 asserted a ‘male gaze’ viewing and presenting women in a voyeuristic and fetishistic manner in the (influential) era of Classic Hollywood cinema, because heterosexual men controlled the cameras. This is something that can also feel relevant when applied to artworks.

[4]The Greek myth of Apollo and Daphne tells of a wood nymph who – on being remorselessly pursued by the love stricken god – begged the gods for help to escape. Hearing her plea, her father cast an enchantment that transformed her into a tree, her feet becoming roots, her arms branches and her skin bark.” – Tish Wrigley, Francesca Woodman’s Inspirations, AnOther Magazine, 2014.