ART FASHION AT THE MET

Rei Kawakubo’s art fills part of the second floor of the Metropolitan Art Museum this summer.  The show is titled “Art of the In-Between.” The Japanese designer works with what is loosely categorized “textiles” to create stitched, wrapped, and layered cocoons and coverings, human scale, best interpreted on human sized models. The work includes designs from 1983 to the present.

cover art "The Handmaid's Tale"

This exhibit is a collaboration between Kawakubo and the staff at the Met; the result is breathtaking. Manikins cluster in windowed, pure white pods that look like sleeper cylinders scattered around the room. Viewers may wander in, around and behind. The lighting is perfect.  

The manikins themselves  extend the story. Human sized, they have only a hint of facial features and are as white as the shells where they stand. Any measure of “ugly” or “beautiful” is erased in favor of a more relevant descriptor, wabi-sabi, the Buddhist aesthetic principle that rejects the idea of perfection. 

early Amish

The hair on these beings break the Third Dimension and sends us into Neverland! The hair is coned, braided, fluffed, and dyed into exaggerated versions of both real and alien styles; the styles “match” the story begun as “clothing.” 

In the guide that accompanies the exhibit, short quotes from the artist reside alongside rather lengthy academic explanations of Kawaskubo’s clothing-non-clothing. Sprinkled with words like “Zen koans or riddles,” mu (emptiness) and ma (space), we viewers are supposed to grasp the idea of in-between-ness, clothes-that-aren’t, wearables that mostly ignore human shapes and needs. We get it already! No need to work so hard on the explanations! 

A Quaker dress from 1700s

This fashion owes a nod to “cosplay” - a hugely popular hobby that originated in Japan where participants dress in complicated fantasy costumes apart from legitimate stage acting; streets, clubs and festivals are venues for these performers  who, incidentally, call themselves reiya (layers). 

All wearable art stands on shoulders of a very long lineage of seamstresses-tailors-designers and clearly, Kawakubo borrows liberally. Tracing possible inspirations sends you spiraling down a rabbit hole. I know because I’m barely coming out myself and I’ve hardly scratched the research surface. 

Because this is such a rich visual story, I’ve assembled photographs of clothing that might have inspired the Comme des Garcons (like some boys) collection. I’ll try to twin them with Kawakubo’s work and you can judge for yourself.

toulouse-latrec poster (1800's)

 

Past/Present/Future (3 stages of separation: birth, marriage, death)

Tokyo Street girl

cosplay - Tokyo

Leather jacket at the Met

16 HOURS IN THE BIG APPLE

The High Line Gardens

Why would anybody fly to New York City for just one day?  In the category of crazy things to do on Friday, is this as frivolous as flying to Paris for lunch? Or buying a Burberry raincoat lined with mink? Or wearing diamonds on the soles of your shoes? (O.K., nobody would do that last one but Paul Simon’s lyrics are nothing short of brilliant so don’t quibble with The Simon!)

I flew to New York City Friday to attend a lecture given by one of the world’s greatest landscape designers, Piet Audolf, have lunch with assorted people I’ve never seen nor ever will again in a  converted factory building (very chic! Sushi and wine spritzers) and walk the High Line.

the High Line, well-designed benches

The event was planned by the Garden Conservency, an organization formed to show and protect significant gardens. The Conservancy plants the seeds of delight into wanna-be-gardeners  through visits to private gardens nationally and leads an educational and preservation effort in nearly every State.  This lunch/lecture was a fundraiser for the organization and as a momento, all attendees left with a copy of the magnificently illustrated book compiled by Mr. Oudolf (the chief High Line garden designer) and Rick Darke (2nd in command), GARDENS OF THE HIGH LINE.

I was in New York City ten years ago to walk through the Cristo “Gates,” a temporary art installation in Central Park. For those of you who think I somehow live on the outskirts of the City, Rochester is approximately 300 miles away. When I worked in the art biz, I got Downstate often.  But now, it simply isn’t on my way to anything. 

But here are some Friday observations.

One view from The High Line

1. New Yorkers have no choice: they spend a lot of time and money planning local travel.  I spent 4 hours of my total 12 in NY just getting from one place to another - at a cost of slightly over $100.(Not including airfares.)  Brookings Institute says that Americans spent 175 billion hours traveling to work and play last year - mostly in private cars. Something’s wrong with this picture. As a country, we are ignoring the question of transit. It’s biting us in the backside, wallet and health. 
2. Well-planned green spaces attract people and investment always follows people.  The High Line in NYC is absolute proof.  Built on an abandoned railroad bed, a walker on this ribbon of linear park now looks across the once derelict railyards to mushrooms of highrises. We counted at least six sky cranes. The High Line Gardens are nearly too successful! Crowds of people use this strip of planted sidewalk (with ample, well-designed benches) every day. It’s become a huge tourist attraction but locals use it as an elevated pleasant sidewalk system. Forget sports stadiums Cities: build a garden! 
3. Thomas Friedman wrote a column for the New York Times lauding the technological advancement of China. He writes that China is out-stripping the U.S.(maybe the entire Western Industrial world) in know-how, will soon lead the world in technology and its manufacture and one of his observations: every person in China has a smart phone attached to his/her hand.  So? Has he been to New York City lately? The place is crazy-crowded and every person carried (and most, stared at) a smart phone. It looks like an invasion of zombies.  Weird…
4. If cultural institutions measure success by numbers of visitors, The Metropolitan Museum must be #1 in the U.S.  The place was so packed that one could hardly move through the lobby. Those wide entry steps were covered with bodies. I was there to see a particular show upstairs (I’ll write about next week) and could hardly wiggled through the crowd to get close enough to see some of the exhibit. The Met is a jewel of a place. Go just to see those huge flower arrangments that grace the entry lobby.  Admission is  “what you can afford.” There’s a chart of “suggestions’ but if you spent all your money on taxi fare to get there,not to worry. You’ll still get in.  I wonder how this strategy is working?  Given numbers of attendees, is the “gate” more or less than if rigid admissions were charged?

I’m home again nursing the blisters on the bottoms of both feet, complaining about my sore knee and back and asking “was the day in NY worth the expense and effort?”  My answer: “yes, but maybe not for the reasons I expected before setting out.”