Monday, May 3, 2010

Want to tour my exhibit?

Finals are approaching, and so I'm pretty swamped right now with assignments, the new job, and complaining about how busy I am. Postings might be thin for the next few weeks.

So here is something to keep you busy (meaning- welcome to my longest post ever). This week I am presenting my exhibit project, and to be honest, I am kind of proud of it. If you are game, let me take you on a tour of my fake exhibit!

[As per usual, the formatting occasionally goes all wonky for no clear reason. Be warned]

Clothing is Key: Dress in Twelve Iconic Paintings

Dress is an ever-present element in the history of art. Clothing and accessories identify the wearer as part of a particular historical, social, and ideological context. Whether selected by the artist or the sitter, clothing is chosen carefully to create a fashionable image or communicate an important idea. Even so, the study of dress is frequently considered secondary to other visual elements in a work of art. This exhibition brings clothing to the forefront, and examines twelve iconic paintings through the eyes of a dress historian. In each work, clothing is not only significant, but central to the meaning and purpose of the painting. To illuminate these messages and aid in interpretation, each painting is displayed with a related article of dress.
These twelve paintings are only a starting point. They represent themes that are shared by countless works of art in collections around the world.

Jan van Eyck, Flemish, (active 1422, died 1441)

The Arnolfini Portrait

1434

Oil on oak

National Gallery, London


Many dress historians believe that fashion developed alongside the rise of a merchant class. While the aristocracy could prove their status through birth, the middle class used fine clothing. This painting, considered a masterwork of the Northern Renaissance style, allows textile merchant Giovanni Arnolfini a way to document and display his wealth. He wears a rich fur and velvet outer garment, while his wife wears a voluminous houppelande and a headdress of fine linen. Her exaggerated, floor length sleeves serve no functional purpose, and are therefore evidence of fashion.


Girdle

Gold brocade, silver, silver gilt, enamel, niello

Italian

c. 1450

The Victoria and Albert Museum


This richly made girdle is similar to the one worn by Giovanna Arnolfini in The Arnolfini Portrait. In the early fifteenth century it was considered beautiful for women to have slightly swollen abdomens. The high waist created by the girdle helped create this fashionable silhouette, and Giovanna’s posture and graceful gesture further enhances the effect. To our eyes she appears pregnant, but she is actually leaning back slightly and gathering up the folds of her houppelande.



Unknown, after Hans Holbein the Younger

Henry VIII

c. 1540

Oil on wood

Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Antica, Rome


King Henry VIII used dress as a way to display his wealth and emphasize his power. His attire consists of the same basic pieces worn by other sixteenth century men: a linen shirt, a doublet, a pair of trunk hose, and a coat. But the exaggerated proportions and embellishments set him apart. The surface of his silk velvet doublet is covered in gold embroidery, jewels, and fashionable “slashes” where portions of the shirt have been pulled through cuts in the fabric. The full sleeves of his coat create a dominating silhouette. The overall effect is dazzling and imposing.


Gold Chain of Office with Tudor Rose, created for Sir Edward Montagu, Lord Chief Justice of the Common Pleas

20 and 22 carat gold

English

c. 1546-7

Private collection


While it would have been unwise to dress more splendidly than the king, attire that flaunted wealth and rank was essential at the Tudor court. Chains of office (also known as livery collars) were symbols of allegiance to the monarch, but could also advertise the wearer’s status. Gold collars could only be worn by barons or lords, and the “S” motif was reserved for judges and high-ranking officials. Possibly presented to Montagu by the king himself, this is the only gold chain of office known to survive from Henry VIII’s lifetime.


Anthony van Dyck, Flemish, 1599-1641

Charles I in the Hunting Field

c. 1636

Oil on canvas

Musee du Louvre


Anthony van Dyck was celebrated for his ability to paint subjects with a fashionable air of casual elegance. Instead of rich court garments, Charles I poses in seventeenth century sportswear: an unadorned silk satin doublet, leather or suede breeches, and a beaver hat that has been tilted to the side. The obvious markers of rank are unnecessary—van Dyck implies that Charles I need only display a relaxed pose and confident stare to impress the viewer.


Badge, Order of the Garter

Gold and Enamel

English

c. 1640

The Victoria and Albert Museum


While most of his clothing is relatively simple, a few details in the painting identify Charles I as a person of high rank. A blue ribbon can be seen tied around his left knee, and another across his chest. The blue ribbons are symbols of the Order of the Garter, and while hidden from view, a badge like this probably hung from the ribbon across his chest. The Order of the Garter was a prestigious organization of English knights founded by Edward III in the fourteenth century. Membership was strictly limited to the royal family and twenty-four select noblemen.



Thomas Gainsborough, English, 1727-1788

The Blue Boy

c. 1770

Oil on canvas

The Huntington Library


Gainsborough uses dress and an untamed landscape to evoke the casual elegance of Anthony van Dyck’s portraits. The title refers to the shimmering silk satin suit—matching doublet, breeches, and a cape carried under the arm—which is seventeenth rather than eighteenth century in style. At the time this painting was completed, there was a love of historical “fancy dress” costumes in the style of the previous century. This interest was connected to the early stirrings of the Romantic movement, and also represented a yearning for a more relaxed mode of dress—a feeling that would eventually lead to radical changes in fashion at the end of the century.


Boy’s Suit

English

Silk, Cotton

c. 1760

Victoria and Albert Museum


If Gainsborough had painted The Blue Boy in contemporary eighteenth century dress, the boy would have worn a suit like this one. The soft, long-sleeved doublet of the seventeenth century had evolved into a sleeveless vest, and a narrow, fitted coat had replaced the flowing cape. While the young man in the painting exposes his doublet by carrying his cape, this suit would not have been worn without the coat. The three garments make up a whole, and to exclude one would violate the rules of propriety.



Louise-Elisabeth Vigée-Lebrun, French, 1755-1842

Marie Antoinette in a chemise gown

1783

Oil on canvas

Private Collection


Like Charles I, Marie Antoinette was a royal who wanted to be portrayed as a private individual in informal attire. Her simple cotton muslin dress was called a chemise gown—named for the undergarment it resembled. The chemise gown was so new in 1783 that the public misinterpreted it as underwear and the ensuing controversy required that the painting be removed from the Paris Salon where it was on view. The image of the Queen was an affair of state, and the idea that Marie Antoinette would pose without being fully dressed was considered an insult to France.


Chemise Gown

English

Cotton muslin

c. 1783-1790

Manchester Art Gallery


This early chemise gown was made with four full widths of fine Indian muslin, gathered with drawstrings at the neckline and waist. The use of plain, un-dyed cotton and the simple shape contrasted with the fitted silk gowns required at court. Marie Antoinette could not have worn this dress at Versailles, but it was perfect for the Hameau de la Reine—her rustic retreat within the palace park. When the symbols of aristocracy were swept away during the French Revolution, the informal chemise gown remained and became the starting point for women’s fashion in the nineteenth century.



Gilbert Stuart, American, 1755-1828

George Washington (The Lansdowne Portrait)

1796

Oil on canvas

Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts


George Washington was keenly aware that he had to present himself as a new kind of leader for a new nation. This full-length portrait is one of the most famous and beloved not because it is an accurate likeness (Washington appears much shorter than his actual 6’2” height) but because of his attire. This black velvet suit with lace cuffs and cravat was an ensemble he returned to again and again. It was the sober yet elegant attire of a man who was neither king nor common man.


Court Suit

Silk velvet, cotton, silk thread

English

c. 1800

The Victoria and Albert Museum


While many early Americans were eager to reject royal symbols, the model of monarchial leadership was the only one they knew. Richly embroidered silk garments were required at the English court, and some thought that similar dress would bring dignity and authority to the presidency. Had Washington agreed, he might have worn a lavish court suit like this one.


Knee and shoe buckles belonging to George Washington

Topaz, gilt, silver, and steel

English or American

c. 1760-1790

Mount Vernon Ladies Association


Washington probably wore these buckles for formal public receptions (known as levees) during his Presidency. His attire for the levees was almost identical to the ensemble worn in the portrait. Washington combined a symbol of the middle class (a plain black suit) with the formal attire of the aristocracy (a sword, gloves, jeweled buckles, and powdered hair). This communicated his belief in both democracy and the maintenance of social rank.



Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres, French, (1780-1867)

Joséphine-Éléonore-Marie-Pauline de Galard de Brassac de Béarn, Princesse de Broglie

1853

Oil on Canvas

The Metropolitan Museum of Art


Ingres’s portraits of elegant, upper class women are some of his most celebrated works. Reportedly, the rendering of faces and hands exhausted him, but he took delight in painting rich textiles. The lustrous shine of the silk satin evening gown, the soft details of the lace trimmings, and the painstaking attention to each item of jewelry make the Portrait of the Princesse de Broglie as much a fashion plate as an official portrait.


Hair ornament

Marabou feathers tipped with silk

French

c. 1850

The Metropolitan Museum of Art


One of the most elegant details in the Portrait of the Princess de Broglie is her quivering feathered headdress. Like the one shown here, it is made of soft marabou feathers with tiny silk tips that appear to lightly brush the back of her neck. Thrown over the chair is a shawl or mantle of gold embroidered cashmere that would have been worn for travel to and from a formal evening party. The shawl probably included a hood, which would have been a practical way to protect a delicate evening hairstyle.


Dante Gabriel Rossetti, English, 1828-1882

La Pia de ‘Tolomei

1868-80

Oil on Canvas

Spencer Museum of Art


Rossetti and other Pre-Raphaelite painters were opposed to what they felt were unnatural standards of beauty imposed on Victorian women. Whereas fashion illustrations portrayed delicate women with cinched corseted waistlines, this model has strong features and flowing hair, and wears soft layers of draped garments. The setting of the painting is intended to be Medieval, but the model, Jane Morris, wore similar relaxed garments in everyday life. Most Victorians considered such attire eccentric and unfashionable.


Corset

Cotton, metal, bone

Crotty & Richards, American

c. 1872

Brooklyn Museum Costume Collection at the Metropolitan Museum of Art


The Pre-Raphaelites particularly abhorred the way that corsets molded the female form. Not only could tight-laced corsets permanently distort the ribcage, but they also made the female body appear hard and rigid. A corset like this, an essential foundation for any Victorian gown, would be unnecessary under the loose garments shown in La Pia de ‘Tolomei.



John Singer Sargent, American, 1856-1925

Madame X (Madame Pierre Gautreau)

1883-84

Oil on canvas

The Metropolitan Museum of Art


When this painting was exhibited at the Paris Salon in 1884 it caused an instant scandal. Much of the uproar centered on the jeweled shoulder straps of the black satin dress, which were not wide enough to conceal the undergarments that nineteenth century women wore. It was clear to contemporary viewers that the sitter was naked underneath her dress. As if to emphasize this point, Sargent originally painted the right strap as having just slipped off the shoulder. The strap was later repainted, but it did little to quell the controversy.


Combination

Robinson & Cleaver, English

c. 1895

Cotton

The Victoria and Albert Museum

In the late nineteenth century the first layer of underwear for women was either a chemise tucked into a pair of pantalettes, or a combination, which merged the two into a single undergarment. While typical evening dresses were sleeveless and low cut, there were always shoulder straps to cover the underwear beneath. The chemise or combination protected the skin from the rough surface of the corset, so to omit it meant excluding the corset as well. The bareness of the jeweled straps in Madame X make it clear that the sitter was wearing none of undergarments required by proper society.



Marsden Hartley, American, 1877-1943

Portrait of a German Officer

1914

Oil on canvas

The Metropolitan Museum of Art


While Marsden Hartley was in Germany he formed a close, possibly romantic, relationship with an officer named Karl von Freyburg. When von Freybug was killed in the First World War, Hartley struggled to convey his emotions on canvas. Rather than a traditional portrait, he chose to portray von Freyburg as an assembly of flags and military dress objects. Among the jumble are tassels from a dress belt, an epaulette, a plumed helmet, a spur, an Iron Cross, and various kinds of insignia. The result is expressive yet veiled in its meaning.


Epaulettes for a Major General

Wool, metal, metallic thread

German

c. 1830-1914

Deutsches Historiches Museum

Iron Cross

Silver and black enamel

German

1914

Deutsches Historiches Museum


Hartley was inspired by the pageantry of the military, and even in the wake of his friend’s death, some of that exuberant energy is reflected in his painting. But Hartley was also obsessed with masculine beauty, and so there is something mournfully empty about an arrangement of objects replacing the human body. A polished red and gold epaulette must have been a pale substitute for the shoulder it once covered, and von Freyburg’s iron cross (awarded posthumously for bravery in the field) is placed centrally as a makeshift head.


Grant Wood, American, 1891-1942

American Gothic

1930

Oil on composition board

The Art Institute of Chicago


Inspired by a Gothic revival style farmhouse in Iowa, Grant Wood planned a painting that would portray the people he imagined living there. He enlisted his sister Nan and his dentist Dr. McKeeby to pose, and intentionally chose clothes that would look rural and old-fashioned. The woman’s flat hairstyle, prim apron, high collar, and cameo pinned at the neck place her in the late nineteenth century rather than the early 1930s.

Work Apron with Rickrack Trim

Printed cotton

American

1890-1900

Michigan Historical Museum

When Wood asked his sister to pose for American Gothic he requested that she wear an apron trimmed with rickrack. The trim was so old-fashioned that none was available to buy, so Nan reused some from an old dress belonging to her mother. After the painting was complete, Wood received angry complaints from Iowa farmwives. Furious at the implication that they were backward and unfashionable, one woman even threatened to come over and “smash his head.”


Frida Kahlo, Mexican, 1907-1954

The Two Fridas

1939

Oil on canvas

Museo de Arte Moderno, Mexico City

In this double self-portrait, painted at the time of her divorce from Diego Rivera, Kahlo depicts two selves dressed in contrasting styles. The figure on the left wears late nineteenth century upper-class attire, which was associated with Europe but had been worn in Mexico by the previous generation. The figure on the right wears traditional Mexican dress with pre-Columbian roots, which was adopted by young Nationalist women in the 1920s and 30s. Divided yet connected, The Two Fridas alludes to dual personal and national identities.


Silk bodice with a lace flounce at the neck

Silk and linen

Unknown maker

c. 1900

Museo Frida Kahlo


Kahlo probably inherited this bodice, considered old-fashioned by the 1930s, from her mother or grandmother. It has a built-in boned structure which created a straight, rigid form. In The Two Fridas the figure wearing late nineteenth century attire has had part of her bodice ripped away to reveal her heart, but otherwise her body is hidden behind unseen, layered undergarments. In contrast, the shape of her breasts and legs is clearly visible underneath her Mexican attire, and her heart is displayed above her clothing.



Mexican

Juchiteco Huipil with machine embroidery

Cotton

20th century

Cotton

Museo Frida Kahlo


In The Two Fridas, Kahlo wears a huipil like this one. Huipiles are pre-Columbian in origin, and are made of a simple length of cloth sewn up the sides with openings created for the head and arms. While The Two Fridas represents two separate dress identities, Kahlo was not a purist when it came to her appearance. Her traditional Mexican attire included clothing from several indigenous groups, and she often combined these garments with contemporary and vintage fashion.

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