Space Mediations, Space Meditations: An Interview with Gabi Schillig

Gabi Schillig, artist and architect, has just completed her four month residency at the Van Alen Institute in New York City. A resident of Berlin, Schillig investigates the relationship between the body and its surrounding space. Her work as a Van Alen Fellow culminated in photo-documented performances around New York involving dancers interacting with her unique, transportable and transformable felt structures. These structures were temporarily grafted onto architectural elements in the city, a form of space mediation which instantly cleaved the wearer's body to their urban environment. Now back in Berlin, Schillig has graciously answered a few questions regarding her provocative project.

What was the importance of felt to your project? Were there any other materials that you had experimented with? Did the fact that felt was traditionally used in housing in Central Asia play into your decision?

For me, there were many different reasons to use felt for my project. One, of course, is the tactile quality of the woolen felt, its variation in thicknesses, density and finally its initial pre-defined structural quality that it provides. Felt is very structural from the onset - fibers connect to each other through a dynamic production process, creating structural surface through density. Furthermore felt protects from environmental conditions such as rain, sun or noise, yet still has the potential to transform in shape despite its structural strength. There are other interesting social and artist´s positions that have influenced my choice of material. Felt’s tradition in general was certainly of great influence for me. But what fascinated me the most was, on the one hand the traditional notion that comes with the felt, but on the other hand its very contemporary and technical uses.

What was specifically interesting to me was to bring the materiality of felt into the urban landscape, a material that is usually considered to be alien to the hard, static and rigid surfaces of a city. Any form of textile materiality in the city constitutes an oddity. Textile structure, in conventional usage, relates clearly to the human body, figure and scale, and thus has the power to produce something new. Within the urban / built environment, the soft geometries and textural surface of textiles allow different social space and interactions to emerge.

I'm reminded of the Turkish Kepenek cloak currently in the Fashioning Felt show at the Cooper-Hewitt. This traditional cloak is worn during the day by sheepherders, and then used as a type of "pup tent" for sleeping at night. Similarly, your structures are portable, and can alternately protect, clothe, and shelter people. Was the multi-functional and portable nature of your structure a primary concern of yours?

I saw the Turkish Kepenek cloak about one year ago in a book on felt and its traditional usage. It was amazing to see it now at the Fashioning Felt Exhibition at Cooper Hewitt - the Turkish Kepenek coat was one of my favourite pieces in the exhibition. This traditional item fascinated me for the simplicity of its shape and usage on the body. Of course it also functions as a kind of shelter against the rain and sun, and the fact that it is "transformable" from a piece of clothing to a tent, a mini-architecture or a cocoon-like structure, had already informed my previous project "Raum(Zeit)Kleider" that I worked on a year ago. A multi-functional nature played an important role in that work, and has always been essential to all of my textile projects. My architectural understanding is about creating spatial boundaries that are not rigid, but rather permeable, changeable - open for adaption and appropriation, creating an ephemeral state of space and allowing for a temporary spatial experience.

"Raum(Zeit)Kleider" still stayed very much in the studio where I had a dancer interacting with it, exploring different states and functions that the textile object could take on in relation to the human body. Now, with "Public Receptors: Beneath the Skin" I had the chance to develop three textile structures and implement them in New York City´s urban public space. Those body/urban structures were moving out of the studio, away from a static and autonomous architecture, towards open systems and soft geometries. Both clothing and architecture can be considered an extension of the body, establishing specific spatial organizations by defining relations within the system itself, as well as between the human body and the built environment. Basically as an architect I am providing an open system, which I give away at a certain point to be appropriated and used by other people. This inclusion of the observer in the design process plays an important role in my projects.

The portable nature of the public receptors was very important, as we needed to transport them in the city - walking, taking the subway etc. The textile objects come folded in bags that can be attached to the body, carrying them through the urban fabric. There is this whole notion of unfolding and folding, packing and unpacking the pieces when being used in the city. It is a temporary intervention that happens spontaneously as soon as a certain locations are "found" in the city where we wanted the structures to unfold and to appropriate space.

And finally, for me three artists were of great importance: Lygia Clark, Helio Oiticica and German artist Franz Erhard Walther. They all investigated in their works notions of participation, the body, performance and particularly geometric abstraction and were working with open systems - textile structures, which reveal entirely unique visual, tactile and acoustic qualities, creating a dialogue between the person and his/her environment. All to be discovered in an object that is not static but that is an open system which is transformative.

Felt structure portable

What were your criteria in picking public spaces? Are there any spaces that you would have liked to interact with that you didn't?

Our aim was to document one day of walking through New York City, implementing the objects into various urban environments that are very diverse from each other. A few days before, the performers and I discussed together various locations that we were interested in. It was great that two of them are originally from New York, so I could share my own experiences in the city with theirs, which were much more the views of "real" New Yorkers. My projects are collaborations where the influence and ideas from my partners are very much appreciated, starting from Barbara Barone, who was the key figure in producing and sewing the heavy felt structures with me, to the performers Lydia Bell, Khalia Frazier and Stephanie Fungsang, who were interacting with the objects out in the public.

As you have seen in the exhibition, I had 11 images framed on the wall. Each of those images basically represents one site that we had chosen on our way up from Central Park down to Brooklyn and back up to Grand Central Terminal. Most of the location we decided upon beforehand, but of course, as soon as you enter a specific location you have to find a spot where you want to attach the soft geometry to an urban element. Especially in the beginning of the day, at the beginning of our "endeavor" I was pretty worried what would and would not be possible in certain locations. Central Park seemed to be pretty easy, but when it comes to sensitive locations such as Times Square, Wall Street or Grand Central Terminal where there are a lot of police, army or security around, I got a little nervous and was waiting for them to stop us doing what we were doing. But nothing happened - on Wall Street we were doing the performance close to a police car and nothing happened. So, obviously soft bodies and geometries are not to be seen as a threat, even if you attach them to building or urban elements. This was a completely surprising and positive experience for me, as I thought after 9/11 especially in New York everything you do out in the public is monitored and observed with great anxiety and concerns.

The Mapping of those 11 specific sites were of great importance as well. We were doing the performances on March 16, 2009, s specific day with specific characteristics in terms of weather for instance. And of course each site carries specific information with it such as the exact coordinates, weather conditions, time during the day and also dirt. The dirt became conceptually very important for the project as well. Each site carries its specific dirt that leaches traces on especially on the white felt structure that we were using. It basically now carries the memories of the city, of 11 different locations, which we went to on a specific day, during a specific time under a certain weather condition. This mapping of the specific locations and its characteristics and the white felt carrying the memory of New York City became a strong point in the work.

Quite often we found interesting locations and urban objects on our way through the city and did a performance there spontaneously. It was all about improvisation and what can be discovered in that process. I was lucky to have great people around me who would be as curious and enthusiastic about the project as I am, to come all the way with me.

Of course, there are many more spaces that we could have used for our interventions. I guess the more you do the less afraid you become and the more you risk. For instance, how about doing such a performance on a very public building that is so highly secured that usually you´re not even allowed to touch or to enter. The trick is that by using clothes and soft materials you seem not to be a threat to the public at all. And that was also the strategy - to start with a piece of clothing and then use this structure to form your own body architecture in the urban fabric, extending your own private body into public space. For me, the limit of a person is not the outermost layer of skin. Therefore, these spatial structures de-limit the surroundings of the body, marking out a territory in the public urban fabric that allows a person to reappropriate the notion of living, bringing architecture back into the realm of the everyday. Also, I am planning to implement public receptors back here in Berlin - I am interested to see if people would react here differently in comparison to New York.

Did you tell the dancers how to interact with the structures? Did they tell you how they felt inside the structures?

As soon as I met Lydia, Khalia and Stephanie I completely trusted them. They knew from our discussions what I was after and that the interaction between the textile structures and the urban environment was very important for me. We met one time before to discuss possibilities and what was I interested in. After that point I left the interaction with the textile structures completely open to them. As I've mentioned before, in my work an essential element is leaving my own control behind, handing it over to other people so that I can explore what will happen and see with surprise what new things are able to emerge out of the open system that I've provided. The question of authorship gets blurred in this moment, which I like. The dancers were basically becoming part of the design process, which is for me open-ended. It is not about the end product or object, but what the spatial system can generate when being used by others. I have learned how important it is to give things away to see how other people interact with it. The figure of the architect traditionally is very much connected to the notion of power. Many architects say they are building for people, but I often doubt that. In the end it is about their own power and control, building designs which leave no space for true appropriation, and the people who have to use the space in the end don´t have any influence on the design process itself.

The dancers told me they "learned" more about the objects with each performance. It was basically about "getting to know" their behavior in relation to the body (or many bodies), their materiality and exploring different possibilities that are hidden in the objects and their different usage. But of course also every site of implementation if different, with its own specific urban condition, people and environment. So each performance was exciting and a new challenge. I guess that one feels pretty safe and secure while being inside those structures. On the one hand, it is an extension of the own body into public space, but the inside space stays very private. That of course relates again to the material and tactile qualitiy of the felt itself, its protective characteristics in terms of outer physical conditions, also including the protection against sound or noise that comes from the outside. So in the end it is a protective device that puts you out in the very most public spaces of New York City, but that still preserves your own, very personal and intimate space that surrounds your own body.

Why did you choose not to document your interaction with the structures?

For me my own interaction with the structures is basically the process of the "Making". During the three months that I worked on the Public Receptors, I continuously documented the design and production process, using different techniques, my camera, camcorder, computer and sketchbooks. For the exhibition at Van Alen Institute it was very important not to show only the textile structures and "final" images. In the whole exhibition you can find traces of the process, to be shown as films on small screens (e.g. the sewing process as short film or me interacting with the objects while figuring out the best strategic way to fold them) or in the little booklets that are distributed in the gallery space on specific locations. The two sketchbooks that you find in the gallery space as well, document my whole thinking process from the last one year, which now manifested itself in the production of the objects themselves.

Are you planning on continuing working with felt? Are there any other textiles that interest you?

I think that felt will definitely continue to play and essential role in my future work. On the other hand I am very curious to explore other materials as well, such as other textiles but also completely different materials. How for instance could I create a transformable object out of a rather static material? I am on a continuous search for new possibilities and am curious about different materialities in general.

The relationship between designing and making requires a certain body of knowledge that resides in the space and time of the working process. Spatial techniques and their established relations may be based upon a beautiful way of ordering elements by defining an open, but clearly defined, system that is able to transform. At the same time the system´s behavior is very much related to its constituent elements, their materiality and their spatial organization. It is fascinating that even flexible elements have the potential to collectively rigidify, when brought together in a certain geometrical order and hierarchy - to be found, for instance, in spatial formations of textile techniques. Open spatial systems that are generated physically and on a material level, hold a great potential to explore unexpected links between those relations. Those tectonic structures possess the ability to adapt, are open for appropriation, and at the same time interact with the environment and enable a constant change of bodies and spaces. This design model stands against a loss of the living body and its senses in the design process and looks beyond humanist practices to consider the body as fixed and static. The rebirth of the tactile, the transformative potential of space and matter determine that action and perception become one.

Photographs courtesy of Gabi Schillig

Interview by Sarah Scaturro

Interview with Kaat Debo; "Bernhard Willhelm: Het Totaal Rappel"

The Mode Museum in Antwerp recently presented a comprehensive retrospective of the work of the German, Belgian-trained designer Bernhard Willhelm. Titled "Bernhard Willhelm: Het Totaal Rappel" (Total Recall), it marked the designer’s donation of his entire archives to the museum.

Following MoMu’s common practice of enlisting the designers themselves as curators, the exhibition articulates Willhelm’s aesthetics across its scenography, which was completed by the Swiss artists Taiyo Onorato and Nico Krebs. Curated by Willhelm in collaboration with the museum’s artistic director Kaat Debo, the exhibition presented his various collections separately. Each collection was staged in an environment which Onorato and Krebs built specifically for the exhibition, starting with the visuals contained in the respective lookbooks. Via its elaborate installation, Het Totaal Rappel underlined the collaborative spirit inherent in Willhelm’s approach (and in the creation of a designer house and its style more generally) by featuring works by artists who are the designer’s long standing collaborators alongside Willhelm’s own.

Upon visiting the museum this past month, I was given an informal yet very informative tour of the exhibition by MoMu’s artistic director Kaat Debo. What follows is an abbreviated and illustrated transcript of the tour. If you miss the exhibition, the extensively illustrated catalogue can be found (in North America) at Ooga Booga.

KD: The way Taiyo and Nico work with the scenography is an extension of their own work. For the installation they worked a lot with throw-away materials, left-over materials. That’s probably one of the reasons he [Bernard Willhelm] invited them, because their work has lots of similarity with his work. Bernhard is also very interested in trash and throw away materials…

KD: We presented each collection in separate installations. We didn’t mix collections. We tried to keep the collections together. For most of the installation, Taiyo and Nico started with the idea of the look book. For this collection [Spring/Summer 2003] the lookbook conveys the idea of building houses and of constructing weird houses with left-over materials. For the exhibition, they created a sort of old attic…

FP: It also looks like a shanty-town.

KD: It’s also interesting how in his earliest collections there were a lot of nature or flower motives. Nature was really inspiring to him. When he was a child, he was very interested in biology and chemistry.

Protest Room, Autumn/Winter 2002/2003, All Photos: Ronald Stoops, courtesy of MoMu

KD: And for this one [an installation identified as Protest Room, where Willhelm’s Spring/Summer 2003 collection is housed] Taiyo and Nico created hybrid figures: this mannequin has four legs and that one two upper bodies and four legs and arms. [They are holding placards with misspelled sentences and literally translated proverbs.] All of our staff was free to paint slogans and everybody was painting and it was an interactive experience.

KD: Here we had the toy train [going through the mountain-like structure]. It had a camera at its front and it made a recording of what it saw, but it’s not working at the moment. Girl with Mobile Phone Collection, Autumn/Winter 2006/2007

Inside the cave-like structures various collections were shown. The walls were covered with toy animals. The toy animals were placed in explicit sexual positions

FP: I love the lewd toy animals!

KD: And then there are the writings like in public toilets [which Bernhard asked the staff to write]. We are now in the “Girl with Mobile Phone Collection” (Fall/Winter 2006). This collection was inspired by Shibuya—a shopping neighborhood in Tokyo, where girls are dressed in extreme style. One of the trends that were popular at the time this collection was conceived was the “ganguro” girls. [“Artificially sun-tanned with pale lipstick, brightly coloured eye shadow and sporting a cellular phone.”]

Tiger Collection, Autumn/Winter 2005/2006

KD: And here you see a cardboard mountain that Taiyo and Nico made for one of his [Willhelm’s] collections.

FP: So they did work with Willhelm before. It’s great how he often collaborates with artists in his work.

KD Yes, I also think he collaborates with them in interesting ways. They try to find similarities between his work and their work and then they make something new.

KD: This is Bernhard himself. Pointing to a print from his Tiger Collection (Fall Winter 2005) depicting a photograph of a 19th century wall clock with the designer himself as a small decorative figure in black makeup and with a skirt of golden banana leaves.

FP: He is in black face…The prints seem a revisitation of colonial motives.

KD: Yes, but Bernhard also often disguises himself. Here he is supposed to be a black chief. In another collection he dressed as a 1970s porn-star. There is one picture where he is dressed like a Tyrolean guy…

KD: This print is also nice. It is a picture of all the people who worked with Bernhard at the time, all of his all staff, and they made a print of it, using the African tradition of the wet print…

Often what he does is not really explicitly political. For instance, in this next collection [Spring/Summer 2006, titled “I Am the One and Only Dominator”] there is a stars and stripes motif. Yet Bernhard would never in an interview say anything anti-American. When I asked him about it, he said: “Well everybody looks good in stars and stripes.” I like the way he is never explicit in his statement…

This [referring to the display of the Spring/Summer 2006 collection] was one of his first ideas. “I want these seventies mannequin guys with their pants down,” he asked.

FP: He was on the first cover of Butt, wasn’t he?

KD: And the model in the photos at the end of the exhibition is a very famous French porn star François Sagat.

Tirolean Room, Spring/Summer 2007

KD: This is the Tyrolean collection. Hingeborg [Harms] wrote about the construction of this collection in her essay for the catalogue. If you see the pattern of these kinds of dresses they are following traditional pattern making traditions.

This instead is an installation, that Taiyo and Nico had done prior to the exhibition. The sound is Yodel music. The artists are from Switzerland and Bernhard is German. Yodeling is a tradition against evil spirit. They [the Yodelers] go in little groups from farm to farm. This installation is also made primarily of recycled material.

Here instead is an installation by Carmen and Elle [Carmen Freudenthal and Elle Verhagen]. They are responsible for most of Bernhard’s lookbooks.

Trashed Room, Autumn/Winter 2004/2005 “The collection is presented in an installation of a teenager’s bedroom which has been completely destroyed by three girls. A video recording of the trashing session is included in the presentation.”

KD: We had the video two days before the opening and the girls had chain-saws and I was so scared they would hurt themselves. Bernhard wanted two girls with a punk gothic look. So, we asked one of the girls who worked here and has that kind of look to come and be in the film, and she recruited another girl.

Collection inspired by traditional attire of the black forest, Autumn/Winter 1999/2000

This is the very first collection. The hats are based on traditional hats and the blouses are very tailored. Sometimes people don’t really realize it, but his clothes are always well made and his patterns are really very thought-through, but you don’t often see it. You notice it when you wear it. Whenever we dressed a mannequin, it always worked very well. The blouse has a little monkey in the color of the coat. Bernhard’s label is the hand of a monkey. He had a toy monkey when he was little, so he uses the hand of the monkey for each collection. Also supposedly he is referring to the name of the city. There is a myth that the name Antwerpen comes from Ant Werpen throw-a-hand, because in the Middle Ages, Antwerp was threatened by a giant who didn’t allow the ships to come through. There was a hero who cut out the hand of the giant and threw it in the river, so Antwerp was saved from the giant, and thus the name.

This is the custom he made for Bjork for her new album cover. He made the wardrobe for her tour and also for her brass bands.

This is the superman collection (or superwomen rather). That mannequin has a neoprene skirt with a diamond motives on it and it’s displayed flying hung from the ceiling. It was really hard to install, but this way you understand his world better.

This other collection was inspired by cocaine, amphetamine, and black style. In the look book there is a cocaine dealer. In the Olaf Breuning video [which he made for the Spring/Summer 2004 collection] he also used some drug references. Some people were quite shocked by it. Francesca Granata

Ghosts, Spring/Summer 2004 (Staircase to the exhibition)

Belgian Fashion Then and Now: An Interview with Nele Bernheim

Unknown artist, but very likely René Magritte
Decorative Hat Stand for Norine
Oil on papier-mâché, 38 x 21 cm.
Private collection

Nele Bernheim is a fashion historian studying in Belgium. She is also one of the co-organizers of the symposium titled "Modus Operandi: State of Affairs in Current Research on Belgian Fashion" that took place on October 18th at the Mode Museum (MoMu) in Antwerp. Fashion Projects is delighted to bring you this brief interview with Nele about her goals in organizing the symposium, her research on the Belgian couture house Norine, and her observations on how fashion studies is approached in Belgium as compared with the United States.

FP: Why did you organize this conference? What were you hoping to accomplish?

NB: Our aim in organizing this symposium, which was a first, was to acquire an overview of current developments in research on twentieth century Belgian fashion. In doing so, we connected scholars, of whom most were unaware of their respective work and provided a platform for them. (Interviewer's note: Francesca Granata, the Editor of Fashion Projects, was among the scholars invited to present at the symposium.) At the same time, it served to posit that the subject is worthy of in-depth research. Moreover, the symposium enhanced the subject’s visibility, both nationally and internationally.

For this first edition, we gathered young national and international scholars approaching the subject from different perspectives. Starting from their own area of research, our speakers addressed some of the historical, socio-economical and anthropological aspects of Belgian fashion. We hope that we have been able to facilitate communication between peers and to have awakened interest in young students and established academics to consider the study of fashion.

FP: Your research is focused on early avant-garde fashion in Belgium, and in particular, the House of Norine. Can you tell us a little bit about Couture Norine?

NB: Norine was run by a charismatic couple: the cultural and intellectual polymath Paul-Gustave Van Hecke and the grande couturière Honorine “Norine” Deschrijver. They established their couture business during World War I. For the first time, a Belgian couture house created its own designs instead of buying them from Paris, and offered an attractive and highly original local alternative. After the war, they became the most important couture house in the country. Their avant-garde designs boldly transcended the modest conventionality of Belgium. The national and, to some extent, international artistic intelligentsia were their customers. The history of Belgian avant-garde fashion begins with Norine.

Norine was a prominent representative of the Modernist movement in fashion. In fact, Van Hecke and Norine’s environment was entirely modern and was a hub of Surrealism and Expressionism: their private home, Van Hecke’s art galleries and journals and the couture house’s salons featured work by national and international contemporary artists. They firmly embedded art in fashion; this symbiosis with modern art gave their creations high art status. The couture house’s beautiful graphics were conceived by Belgian artists such as Frits Van den Berghe, Leon de Smet and—most importantly, by René Magritte. Also the techniques and imagery of modern art were literally incorporated into the house’s creations. Their signature dress of the second half of the 1920s, the “robe peinte” (painted dress) displayed hand-printed Art Deco motifs. A photograph from 1925 shows us a dress that was embroidered with a Raoul Dufy composition. In addition, Norine was unique in its pioneering use of Surrealist imagery with Modernist fashions. In 1927, the embroidery on a sports ensemble refers to the work of Max Ernst. When Surrealism in fashion became well established in the late 1930s, Norine turned to Ernst’s and Man Ray’s imagery for their embroideries. Among the few extant garments (only 8 so far), we have a blouse dating from this decade of which the print mimics the vocabulary of Surrealism.

Norine enjoyed its largest success during The Roaring 20s. Funded at the expense of Van Hecke’s art business, the couture house survived the world economic crisis of the early 1930s. Even during World War II, they continued to be influential. The late 1940s saw the decline of Norine. After a persevering struggle for survival, the Van Heckes officially closed their couture house in 1952.

Norine can be considered a precursor to the development of avant-garde Belgian fashion, which gained worldwide renown from the late 1980s onwards. For almost forty years, this Belgian couture house was at the intersection of different visual art disciplines and the elite vanguard of European art and fashion. No account on the history of fashion in Belgium, and even worldwide, can be considered complete without Norine.

FP: What do you think of Belgian fashion today? Where do you think its heading?

NB: I am very fond of Belgian fashion design today. Its evolution, started in the late 1980s, seems to be continuing its course. Diversity has been the synonym of our national avant-garde fashion. Alongside the deconstructed looks of Martin Margiela or Ann Demeulemeester, the exoticism of Dries Van Noten and the boldness of Walter Van Beirendonck, new generations are adding to this variety. There is the sleek and dark feminine look of Véronique Branquinho, the constructive work of AF Vandevorst, the playfulness of Bernhard Willhelm and the tailored look of Bruno Pieters. What is most striking about these designers (of whom I name just a few)—and this might be their only common feature other than geography—are their highly developed, individual artistic idioms. Students in Belgian fashion programs such as the Antwerp Academy are trained to develop their own language whilst absorbing the most diverse influences. I expect that new alumni (or autodidacts) will only add to the diversity and continue this creative legacy.

FP: Besides Antwerp, you've studied fashion history in New York at the Fashion Institute of Technology. Do you find that there are different approaches to studying fashion history and theory in the United States and Belgium?

NB: There is a great difference. Most importantly, there is no Masters program on the European continent, let alone in Belgium, that focuses on fashion history and theory as does the Fashion and Textile Studies program at the Fashion Institute of Technology. Moreover, the integration of museum practice in FIT's program is of great value. Belgium as yet still lacks the tremendous resources available in the United States, and as such, fashion is mostly approached in a journalistic manner. Within the Belgian academic sphere, there is, however, a growing interest in the study of fashion. Lately, more Masters theses and, gradually, PhD and postdoctoral dissertations are being written about (Belgian) fashion. If one is fortunate enough to find a professor who is willing to act as an advisor, one can graduate in programs such as communication sciences, sociology, history, or art history with a thesis that relates to fashion. However, these students often lack thorough knowledge of the history of fashion and hands-on experience.

Progress is being made, though. The Antwerp Fashion Museum (MoMu), which opened in 2002, has made a great difference in procuring attention for the discipline. Their highly creative approach to curating has led to some fantastic results. And the Hasselt Fashion Museum recently set up an exhibition displaying the history of women’s fashion from 1750 to 1950. Also, the University of Leuven is now the first institution to integrate fashion history in its Art History Bachelor program. Hopefully, other universities will follow and maybe one day, we will establish a Masters following FIT’s example.

Interview by Sarah Scaturro

Skin + Bones: An Interview with Brooke Hodge

Shigeru Ban, Curtain Wall House, 1995. Shigeru Ban Architects, Itabashi, Tokyo, Japan Photo © Hiroyuki Hirai

Unfortunately, the groundbreaking exhibition “Skin and Bones: Parallel Practices in Fashion and Architecture” at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Los Angeles is now over. Thus, this post is dedicated to those who were not lucky enough (like me) to have had the opportunity to experience the visual discourse between fashion and architecture as developed by MOCA's Curator of Architecture & Design, Brooke Hodge.

Brooke graciously took a moment to talk to Fashion Projects about the relationship between these two disciplines and her inspirations in developing the exhibition. After reading this brief interview, head to FIT on April 18th to hear a panel discussion featuring Brooke Hodge, Patricia Mears (Deputy Director of the Museum at FIT and contributor to the Skin and Bones catalog) and others discuss fashion and architecture. More information follows this interview. FP: You write that you explicitly realized the connections between fashion and architecture when you were curating a show on Rei Kawakubo of Comme des Garçons. What was it about her designs that got you thinking of the parallels between these two disciplines? In general, how important do you think the Japanese designers (Miyake, Yamamoto, Watanabe, etc.) are to this concept?

BH: When I was working on the Comme des Garçons show, I started to notice that the clothes were described using terms usually applied to architecture—structural, constructed, architectonic, sculptural, etc. This got me curious about other parallels.

I think the work of the Japanese designers, especially Yamamoto, Kawakubo, and Miyake, is very important to the idea that there are parallels between fashion and architecture. Yamamoto and Kawakubo were the first designers to explore ideas of deconstruction in their garments (in 1982) and to create clothes that were radically different from what we had been accustomed to and from what other designers were doing at the time. Miyake’s sculptural shapes and innovations with pleating have also been very influential for architects, especially Frank Gehry. Junya Watanabe’s influence is more recent but still very important.

While it is true that the point of origin for both fashion and architecture is the three-dimensional body, do you think that the vastly different scales and sense of permanence make for an antagonistic relationship?

I think that for many years architects considered fashion to be frivolous and superficial. However, with the rise to prominence of more intellectual designers like the Japanese designers mentioned above, I think architects have more respect for fashion and realize that there is inspiration to be gleaned from it. Both use flat materials to make volumetric forms. With the increased potential to make more complex curved forms in architecture, thanks to computer-aided design, architects are looking more to fashion for construction techniques that will enable them create more interesting surfaces and to shape more complex forms. I think there is still a little snobbery on the part of architects toward fashion because architecture is much more monumental and meant to last many years and fashion is still seen as something that changes every season. It’s interesting that several architects have experimented with ideas on the scale of clothing (Diller + Scofidio, J. Meejin Yoon, Elena Manferdini, to name a few) because it is an easier scale to work with and quicker and less expensive to complete something. In the case of Manferdini, these experiments in the area of fashion have been important for her architecture practice. The pavilion she designed for the Beijing Biennale incorporated the process, tools, and motifs she has worked with in her clothing designs.

You state that the two main characteristics that fashion and architecture share are minimalism and deconstruction? In your mind, which characteristic bears the most fruitful dialogue?

Minimalism and deconstruction are two main STYLISTIC characteristics that fashion and architecture share but there are other important parallels. Deconstruction created the most important dialogue in terms of “style” since it had more impact in terms of creating potential for new forms of expression in both and was a much more radical shift in both fields. They both address basic human needs such as shelter and identity. I think the most fruitful dialogue is in the area of techniques of construction that are being adopted and adapted across the two disciplines.

The parallels between fashion and architecture are easily accepted by fashion scholars, perhaps in part because it lends a sophisticated legitimacy to a field known for its whims. However, do you think that the links between these two fields are as readily accepted (and desired) by architects and their critics?

I get the feeling that architecture critics (and some architects) are not yet ready to accept that there may be parallels between the two fields. This may be due to the snobbery toward fashion mentioned above. Also those who are less visually inclined may not be able to discern visual similarities between the two. None of the architects I contacted for the exhibition were reluctant to include their work in the show and most were very enthusiastic and mentioned their interest in fashion. “Skin and Bones” is not the first exhibition to highlight the connections between fashion and architecture. In 1982 there was a groundbreaking exhibition at MIT titled “Intimate Architecture: Contemporary Clothing Design” curated by Susan Sidlauska. And this past year at the Center for Architecture in New York there was an exhibition titled “The Fashion of Architecture: Constructing the Architecture of Fashion," curated by Bradley Quinn. How is “Skin and Bones” different from these past exhibtions?

Intimate Architecture was a definite inspiration for me. However, it did not include architecture—only garments that are architectural. The Fashion of Architecture was interesting in terms of the fashion it included but it too did not include much architecture at all. It also had an emphasis on fashion created by artists as well as some examples of clothes created by architects or by architects in collaboration with fashion designers. Skin + Bones is the first exhibition to examine the relationship between fashion and architecture in great depth with numerous examples from both fields.

A more recent connection between fashion and architecture is in the area of sustainability. Many fashion designers are following the lead of architects by attempting to use more ecological materials and processes. What do you think of this emerging parallel? Are there any other areas that you see emerging as a new dialectic between these two disciplines?

It would be great to see both fashion designers and architects truly use sustainable materials in a meaningful way that is accepted by the public. I think Testa & Weiser’s work with architectural applications for carbon fiber has a lot of potential for the future. I think architects are currently looking more at fashion and maybe we will see fashion begin to look at architecture more for inspiration.

Interview by Sarah Scaturro

Visit www.moca.org to download the Skin and Bones Gallery Guide, featuring photos of the objects as well as the didactic material appearing in the exhibition. Unfortunately, the gorgeous hardcover catalog accompanying the exhibition is sold out in many major online retail shops. If you see it, snatch it up quickly.

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“SKIN + BONES: Parallel Practices in Fashion and Architecture”

Panel Discussion

Wednesday, April 18
6:00pm – 8:00pm
Fashion Institute of Technology, 27th St. at 7th Avenue, NYC
Katie Murphy Amphitheatre, Fred P. Pomerantz Art and Design Center (D building), 1st floor
$25 general admission, $17 for students and seniors. Free to FIT students, faculty, and staff.

Coutorture takes on Steele

I've been meaning to post this interview with Dr. Valerie Steele, Director of the Museum at FIT, ever since it appeared on Coutorture.com. I'm sure many of you know that Coutorture is leading the way in pushing for the acceptance of blogs as valid voices in fashion. Coutorture's Julie Fredrickson and Philip Leif Bjerknes constantly hustle to get attention and respect for their growing community of fashion blogs. Their video coverage of New York's Fashion Week is so comprehensive that I was afraid these two videos you'll find after the jump would soon get buried in their archive. They post the coding for the videos for other bloggers to use, so please take a moment to check out their site if you haven't already. Enjoy!

Sarah Scaturro

Dr. Valerie Steele on fashion writing:

Dr. Valerie Steele on fashion and academics: