Fashion in Diaghilev and the Golden Age of the Ballets Russes

Being a fashion blogger, it was the costumes which interested me the most. Diaghilev aimed for complete creative control in order to give the audience a complete experience which harmonized on all levels. In commissioning not only choreography but also music, set design and costume, he introduced a beautiful collection of work that anyone who loves ballet can spot the influence of in many spectacles. Furthermore, there is currently a heightened interest of ballet in the world of fashion due to Natalie Portman's depiction of Swan Lake in the new film "Black Swan".



This strong sense of creative vision led Diaghilev to work with the best of the best contemporaries and at the exhibition I was able to witness collaborations with Ives Saint Laurent, Chanel and my personal favourite, Giorgo De Chirico. Those were of course not the only designers and hall upon hall the intricate embroidery, applique's and designer craftsmanship was somewhat difficult to comprehend in any environment other than on a runway. Far from being costumes, they were full fleshed modernised and conceptualized designer collections, there is no other way of describing it. What only confirmed my impression was the fact that each commissioned outfit was given the budget and indeed cost £50-£60 pounds in the early 1900s, which in comparison to now would be something between £1600 - £2000.

When one is told to visit an exhibition within an allotted time frame, it becomes clear that said exhibition is very much in demand. I therefore had my eyes firmly on the ground in shame upon fashionably late arrival at the door to meet with in-law family awaiting. Once we stepped inside, something happened that has, in my entire life of being schlepped from exhibition to exhibition, NEVER happened.

There was a line. No following the flow, looking where the exhibition leads you. No. You stood in line until the person next to you kindly moved onto the next piece of display so you could eagerly have a look at the highly, line-filled anticipated explaining text. It was insurmountably irritating, much like having to wait in line to see a slide show of pieces from an entire painting, rather than looking at the painting as a whole and letting your eye wander over it however the eye wishes.

Considering there was an "allotted time frame" I did feel the least the V&A could have arranged was to make sure that the halls weren't overfilled with people so you CAN actually have a look. Isn't that the point of such a scheme?

First impressions aside, however, which I quickly jumped in order to enter the second, larger hall with no crowding (jumping the queue, so to speak) the exhibition was insightful, broad in the discussion of the circumstances and impact as well as detailed in terms of displaying specific historic pieces actually used.

After reading several soap opera-like details of Diaghilev's and the company's affairs and dramatic private stories that are bound to happen when you work so closely that the company is called "the family", a scene played out in my head in which the prima-ballerina would prefer taking on a lesser role just so she could wear the more amazing costume. I bet that happened!

Picasso's depiction of two dancers by a beach, blown up to enormous and imposing proportions onto the front cover of the stage.

If after the exhibition the feasting on gorgeous pieces of historic couture has made the shopaholic in you itch, there are some seriously worthwhile pieces awaiting you in the shop, and I am not talking about the post cards! First off, what should I encounter but a custom, exclusively commissioned piece inspired by this very exhibition by a designer who, had he lived during the times of Diaghilev, would certainly have been involved in his collaborations... none other than ERDEM! And oh, what a beautiful silk scarf it is. For you bargain hunters, it's on sale, reduced from £185 to £60.

There were some other pieces as well, quite a few worth the money and exclusive to the exhibition, such as this gorgeous silk blouse that I wanted to take home with me.

The exhibition, which is open until the 9th of January (hurry!) is worth a visit, just make sure you pick a less busy time.

Thank you so much to Sue and Martin for inviting me to see the exhibition and to the rest of the in-laws for the lively discussions over some much needed cake.

And here's what I wore to the occasion, taken within the gorgeous halls of food consumption... coming with a general apology for poor images that were taken on the iPhone... I need to find my camera battery charger!

Image by Stuart Bannocks

Silver Sculpture Lira Leirner dress
Silver and Net Lira Leirner bracelet
Tie up navy blue and pearl necklace
Gray Calvin Klein ribbon tights
Silver Prada silk stilettos

29th Bienale Sao Paulo 2010

Black vintage felt hat
Black bandeaux dress
Caramel satin Burberry blazer
Caramel patent Miu Miu pumps
Black Proenza Shouler sunglasses
Black Yorkshire Pearl bracelet
Brown check Lira Leirner bracelet
Black rubber Longchamp bag

The Sao Paulo Bienale is the second oldest Bienale in the world and takes place every two years. I vaguely remember attending several when I was younger and was happy that my visit in Brazil coincided with the Bienale. The exhibition spread over three massive floors and the quality of the work exposed was equally as varied. While some was barely worth mentioning, there were pieces that were extremely provocative, beautiful, questioning... I didn't feel there was much coherency visible apart from the separation between amazing work with a beautiful finish with "not-so-well-made" pieces, which is a bit strange. I went with my sister and my old friend Andre (who is an actor)... my camera broke, so most of the following images were taken by my sister.

One of the strangest pieces was the whole wall of drawn self portraits of the artist murdering a range of political figures at gunpoint or with a knife. It was so controversial that they took it down, which created even more controversy resulting in the series becoming one of the most prominent pieces of the entire exhibition.

This was my favourite installation of the whole Bienale. Made from local leftover scraps and wood, which is typically what favelas and slums are made of, the artist created a beautiful construct of two levels of tunnels and mountains through which you could walk and marvel.

Sheets of thickly and loosely woven material in complimenting colors provided a very interesting pattern with which to explore colors and interaction.

Duval Timothy Are Na Fo - A raw diamond of constructive art

With his trademark bow-tie and beautiful linen suits, Duval is sweet and enigmatic without being eccentric. About a year and a half ago I bumped into his brother Miles, a fellow Goldsmithsian and only one member of the tightly knit family of two architect parents and a beautiful sister I was about to encounter. He took me for tea and a catch up just around the corner from my old office, right by Tower Bridge. It was such a pleasure to be welcomed into a REAL space where a room is what in London would pass as a three bedroom flat, the size a room should be. After a lovely catch up on my way out as I was chatting along, my eyes struck upon a medium, square constructive painting and I froze and burned at the same time. I had little time to look at it properly and even less time to make my astonishment heard and I was out of there with the promise that I'd be given Duval's contact upon my request to their father wondering if he was at all willing to part with said painting. Cutting a long saving up money story short, the painting now graces my hallway as I am the proud owner of a Duval painting.

A couple of days ago, I was invited to one of Duval's solo exhibitions at the Art House Lewisham, which just so happened to be a 15 minute walk from my house. Considering it takes me 20 minutes to get to the station, that's quite a location score. ARE NA FO, of an era, is an exhibition worth trekking to south east London for. I don't say this often, and especially not about artists, but this is one who ticks all the boxes. Beautiful, vibrant, perfectly balanced yet characteristic pieces that I will, and suggest you should, keep coming back for. I don't think I have to state the obvious, which is that investing in his pieces are more than an intelligent choice and you'd be mad to miss out while you still can!

I strongly suggest you go view the exhibition at 140 Lewisham Way, London SE14 6PD and hold yourself a piece. However, I must warn you, there are two pieces which will by the time the exhibition ends and paintings get allocated to their respective owners, be gracing the house of the Portmanteau and you'll only be able to see them if you walk 15 minutes further.

To view more of Duval's heart stopping pieces have a look at his website http://www.duvaltimothy.co.uk

The Portmanteau and the Artist
This image and all following are by Stuart Bannocks

The portmanteau is wearing:
Black Zara hat
Brown vintage fox fur neckwarmer
Black Longchamp Le Pliage bag
Black wet-look silk DKNY shirt
Black and light colored knitted Chanel-like Primark cardigan
Black H&M zip skinny trousers
Black suede Zara lace up ankle boots

What is art and what is fashion?

Fashion is essential. Its pieces are utilitarian, practical in fact. Does it pain you to read this? Me too.

Fashion embodies a two-in-one market. Being one of the few markets which polarize the commercial and art, it evokes all the classic trademark of broad misrepresentation. There is the naive disrespect of scoffing nature-loving (for example) cyclists stating that "they don't do, nor respect fashion as a legitimate past time" without realizing that their highly technically designed latex outfit is just as designed as their bike. There is the self immersed, disconnected fashion snob who can't appreciate the necessity of practicality.

Critical Mass Topeka - Cyclelicious

In fact, it's best to acknowledge they should happily co-exist - as separate entities. When I say "fashion", I am talking about art in wearable form. I am talking about the goose bumps evoking, beautiful reviving of a concept or a visual into concrete and wearable (and sometimes less wearable) form.

Just like with art, it is my personal disposition that it is, in its creation but even more so in its consumption, intimately personal. You can know the history of art, the context, the idea and the concept of a piece or collection, but none, and I mean NONE of this matters if it doesn't touch you, doesn't strike a brainwave like a splashing paddle on resisting water to shake you and create the ripples across your body it deserves. When the paddle smoothly enters and pushes the water like the perfectly logically conceptualized canvas painting or the obvious shift dress it is efficient, brings us forward in the boat on the river of life. It is practical, and necessary. However, it is those splashes of exhilaration we get surprised by, it is those who the fashionista or art collector gets addicted to in a bid to escape and snob the necessity of the former.

For instance, I have throughout all my life seen the interior of uncountable galleries, museums, art fairs and Documentas. I meet most art with the same indifference a fashionista might meet the outfits of every single person they come across on the commute to work. Yes, you'll look at it up and down if you're not too tired or wedged between someones armpit and another person's bum on the train. It may strike your attention, you'll see the strange, the good, the bad, the obvious and the plain. But every now and then there's a gem, one in a thousand, a wonderfully, wholly fitted puzzle of an outfit perfectly styled, of a piece of creation that hits you like a paddle hits the water at a wrong angle.

Those, I believe, are truly personal. Ideally, there is not a hint of contextualization, cultural hierarchy or objective beauty theory - at least not in what makes it create the impact it does. There's just you, your personal experience and the piece.

I am lucky enough to have had this happened a few times in my life. One of them was when I encountered an abstract painting entitled "The ratio of sorrow" by Jema Austin - it's the only piece I have hanging in my office and it makes me sad and happy every day. It reminds me of the deeply lodged Taoist necessity of pain to feel joy, the necessity of a well where there's a dam. It makes everything OK. It balances me, it calms me and it reminds me to get excited about the things that are worth it in my own personal realm.

The same goes for fashion. Yes, there's beauty. There's the necessity and joy to find a piece that exactly matches those other pieces you like. But when you come across something deeply personal, all of a sudden it doesn't MATTER. You don't CARE if you used to think abstract art is the most boring form of painting ever. You don't CARE if it fits, or whether there's a place on the wall, or whether you even have anything that you could wear with the piece.

My favourite fashion piece I own is extremely personal. In fact, it is so personal, spelling it out in too much detail on a blog would be inappropriate and more of a psychological analysis of what makes up the psyche and personality of Lira Leirner the Portmanteau. It's the bracelet by Yorkshire Pearl.



There's the Mater Dolor, which reminds me of my mother every day. It reminds me of what a horrible child I was, how much she sacrificed for me to be who I am, and how much I owe it to her to be the best I can be now.There's the flower, the pearls and the dark and colorful side - there's the tribal, the antique porcelain Japanese doll and the rank specifications and the bind holding it all together. It's me, and it's all there.

When you come across something personal that hits you like a paddle in the water - do yourself a favour and do everything you can to get the piece for yourself, or you'll regret it forever because that's when you know you've encountered art.

Moving image vs art film - Sean Rogg and The Wolf at the Wapping Project

Image courtesy of PurpleCloud on flickr

I'm ashamed to have to admit to have to introduce a new portmanteau in order to explain the condition of my brain when it comes to names, aka The Failure of Brain Cells which Remember Names, becoming Brellrenail. I quite like the uglyness of that word as it expresses the failure and incapacity for said brain cells to hold in information that has not been written down or remotely visualized, particularly names that they cannot clearly connect with a facial visual. It sounds like the name of a dragon to be conquered by the strength of determination.

You may have noticed I tend to speak of my brain cells in third person format when I am ashamed and do not want to take responsibility, much like children do. I shall try to avoid that. But not this time.

Brellrenail never fails to fail me

This is why I can't remember artists or writer unless I have actually stalked them a bit and bothered reading up on their life on Wikipedia or the beloved 16 volumes thesaurus that used to be in my possession. To cut a long story short and avoid further musings on the capacity of my brain cells et al, I shall swiftly move from my least favourite subject that is Biology to a slightly more interesting subject.

The Wapping Project and .. um...

It was quite a while ago that I was invited by Bert, the designer of Yorkshire Pearls, to see the opening of "Between the Dog and the Wolf" - an installation by Sean Rogg. I had heard of the Wapping Project before but due to aforementioned Brellrenail I am ashamed to say I had not remembered Sean Rogg despite the fact that I have a lurking hunch that I have seen his work before even though I do not remember where or whether it was just something similar - a by-product of being schlepped from gallery to gallery and exhibition to exhibition throughout my life. It gets a bit blurred when you're a teenager who is more interested in stretching and dazing like a lion in the sun. However, I do appreciate that blatant overexposure to the art world now, as it seemed to have lodged itself somewhere in my brain - without names, of course.

Bert of Yorkshire Pearl and two lovely ladies - one wearing a Missoni dress, and Laura Bettinson

Laura Bettinson of the music group Dimbleby & Capper is wearing a beautiful Yorkshire Pearl bracelet and an awesome bag by Toft Alpaca.

Lira Leirner the Portmanteau is wearing a Givenchy headscarf and black Yorkshire Pearl bracelet, a blue Fiorelli satchel and blue- green leather pumps, black silk Zara cardigan, green H&M top and black layered linen skirt.

Boundaries of media and art

Some of the bigger issues that has always been present in the discussions of my household of yonder were the boundaries of the usage of certain medium to classify as art. This was one step away from the obvious and typical, almost tedious bickering about what constitutes an art object (I'll get back to that - my view is very simple). I was lucky enough to be around when my mother was exploring the merging and cross usage of different media in her art work (one of her awesome films was shown at the Tate Modern Photo Film program earlier this year), and my first job in the UK whilst studying was that of being an assistant to a film art curator (Manuel Saiz). It will therefore, I'm sure, come to no surprise to you that I must point out I am quite biased and partial to a show of film installations, especially when they are as grand and penetrating as Sean Rogg's installation at the immense industrial cellar of the Wapping Project was.

Moving image vs film art

An issue I have personally always had with film art was the separation of "moving image", which to me is essentially a painting with a strong sense of time and action, from that of an "art film", which is closer in its categorization to being a directed and dramatized piece, which involves manipulation and purpose to a greater extent than the former. The latter certainly has a greater entertainment value and is ever so slightly favored by me since I studied film among other subjects and have no qualms with admitting I like being entertained and admitting that I respect it to be an admirable form of creation to be able to know how to entertain well. This does not mean I don't value the former, as I do as long as it doesn't go on for too long without a certain degree of change (yes, I'm sorry, I am from THAT generation).

Image taken from Sean Rogg's website

Sean Rogg, between the Dog and the Wolf

Sean Rogg, interestingly enough, provided one of each. There was the moving image piece "WOOD", which is portrayed in the brochure as follows:

"[WOOD] tests the audience's belief that in certain parts of rural Sweden an old traditional law still stands. If a child under the age of 18 commits a serious offence and is convicted of the crime, he or she is NOT sent to a correctional facility. Instead, state firemen show up at the child's home and ceremonially burn the house to the ground. It is hoped that by being made an example, other parents will keep control of their children's behaviours. The system seems to work as a house is only burned once every 12 to 15 years."

The essential Criminologists' point of view
Being interested in criminology as I am I of course immediately considered the real reasons for the immense dark figure (meaning non reported but still very much happening) in this - first of all, it's only for "serious" crimes, which excludes pretty much everything except from murder, manslaughter and grievous bodily harm. Secondly, this rule only applies if the child is CONVICTED, which will most likely happen even less when taking into account the rule applies in rural areas only where everybody knows each other and liked parents are most likely given the benefit of a doubt, leaving a minuscule percentage of witch hunting style conviction which probably only takes place when the family itself is actually taken to have been responsible for bad parenting.

I do have to say that it seemed to be strange paradox to observe a group of firemen working WITH the fire, working on CREATING and ENHANCING the flame beast, fighting with it against the house that they were bringing down in joint force.

Image taken from Sean Rogg's website

The second film called WOLF was my favourite. In the film two children play off each other in ever accelerating, stoic competition of violence and destruction of materiality. It creeped me out and certainly continued where The Village of the Damned (shudder) had left off in cementing my fear of children who stare at me too much and my general dislike of children anyway, but as a piece I had to say it was intriguing, poignant, wonderfully awkward and truly, truly beautifully shot to an extent that it reminded me of the camera work of Chris Doyle when he collaborates with Wong Kar Wei (on none other than each and single one of his pieces) - that's about as high a compliment any cinematographer can receive from me, by the way. Once again, for a portion of the film, there was a fascination with the burning down of a wooden house after the stoic destruction of interior possessions, which seemed to be a preparation, enjoyment but also futile.

The third was most like a moving painting and I didn't see the entire film as I got bored (sorry). Here's what the brochure says about it, clearly disagreeing with me on which was the best (and most austere) film.

"In the most austere of the three films [hmm I don't think so], WONDERLAND, the filmic sense of foreboding is focused on wind ripping through trees. Rogg taunts his viewer with the promise of a tornado while he seems to sit at the eye of the storm."

The Wapping Project Space

On my way in to view the pieces I got asked to do an interview about the space and exhibition for a TV show on a Korean Channel called KBS (once I get the link for the actual coverage I'll let you know), which was pretty cool. The highly finished modern space in which heavy and industrial machinery were placed was right up my alley as they managed to perfectly balance the raw and soft finish of the place. I wasn't impressed with being asked to pay £3 for a tiny slice of cake at a stand (which didn't belong to the restaurant) and pretty much told them to f- off especially because I really fancied that slice of cake and had been eying it up over two hours. As so often before, it wasn't about me not being able to afford it, it was the principle of standing my ground against ridiculous pricing and rip offs. Outside the building itself there was a wonderful glasshouse which served as the book sale in the middle of a greenery, which I really loved. There were also some very funky bird nesting houses scattered upon the height of a massive tree, making it very difficult to take a decent picture.



I will try to take a couple of tools and tackle the mountain that is my brain in order to ensure the victory of Sean Rogg's name in the battle against the dragon Brellrenail and create a tunnel that leads through it to reach the oasis of long term memory, the Oasory because his work is certainly worthy of having a spot there.